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PHILOSOPHICAL AND PRACTICAL 



TREATISE 



THE WILL 



FORMING THE THIRD VOLUME OF A SYSTEM OF MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 

BY THOMAS C>%PHAM, 

Professor of Moral and Mental Philosophy in Bowdoin College. 



NEW-YORK: 

HARPER -. BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF- STREET. 
1845. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, n: the year 1840, by 

Thomas C. Upham, 

in the Clerk's office of the District Court of Maine. 



Bertram SmftFj 
msFwh 1?^, Ii34 



PREFACE. 



In offering to the public the following Treatise on the 
Will, I am obliged to presume, in no small degree, on its 
forbearance and candour. It is a subject which, in some 
of its applications, has been so long connected with 
Theological controversies, that it is almost impossible to 
write upon it without exciting the suspicion that the dis- 
cussion will assmne a party character. I hope the reader 
will do me the justice, in the outset, to believe that my ob- 
ject is not a party one, and that the ascertainment of truth 
is my only aim. If he will take the trouble carefully to 
read the Treatise through, as I hope he will before pro- 
nouncing an opinion upon it, I anticipate the pleasure of 
standing fair in his estimation, as a candid inquirer after 
the truth, whether I have been successful in my efforts or 
not. 

I presimie the reader, and the public generally, will 
agree with me in the admission that the subject of the 
Will is one of great importance, both theoretically and 
practically. And yet there can be no hesitation in say- 
ing, that it has never received that attention from mental 



Xil PREFACE. 

philosophers which is due to it. In those various Schools 
of philosophy, which from time to time sprung up among 
the ancient Greeks and Romans, it seems almost wholly 
to have escaped notice ; their speculations, so far as they 
related to the nature of the mind, being principally taken 
up with inquiries into the origin of knowledge and the 
nature of virtue. From the earlier English writers on 
the mind, Hobbes, Cudworth, Butler, Baxter, and others, 
although it was not wholly passed by, it received no at- 
tention worthy of particular notice at the present time, 
and in the present advanced state of mental science. 
Mr. Locke, however, who has treated of this subject in- 
cidentally in his chapter on Power, entered upon its in- 
vestigation with his accustomed ability ; and as his views 
were given in the later editions of his Essay on the Hu- 
man Understanding, they were greatly in advance of 
anything that had been written before. There are also 
some valuable remarks on the Will in Dr. Reid's wri- 
tings ; but he takes, on the whole, but a limited view of 
it. Mr. Stewart throws his observations, which are not 
nmnerous, and which consist rather of criticisms on the 
opinions of others than of a decided and systematic ex- 
pression of his own, into an Appendix. The learned and 
able Inquiry into the Will of President Edwards does 
not profess to go over the whole ground, and to exhaust 
the whole subject ; but, on the contrary, as appears from 
the very titlepage, is limited to a particular aspect or 
view of it, viz., that Freedom of the Will which is sup- 



PREFACE. XIU 

posed to be essential to moral agency, virtue and vice, 
reward and punishment, praise and blame. 

But I would not be understood to make these remarks 
in the way of complaint. It could hardly be expected 
to be otherwise. An examination into the will naturally 
comes last in order in all inquiries into the mind. The 
questions relative to the origin of knowledge and the in- 
tellectual part of our constitution come first in order; 
and these are questions which are not settled without 
much care and labour. The natural order of inquiry 
then brings us to the Sensibilities or sentient states of the 
mind, in distinction from the intellectual, viz., the various 
forms of emotion, and desire, and feelings of moral obli- 
gation. These must be examined and understood also, 
as well as the intellectual part. Until mental philosophy 
is in some degree satisfactorily established in these great 
departments, the doctrine of the will, although it may be 
a matter of conjecture, cannot be fully and correctly as- 
certained. But this period has arrived, and there is no 
longer any excuse for permitting this important inquiry to 
remain neglected. The subject is one of \vide extent, 
perhaps more so than has sometimes been imagined ; and 
one, too, which admits of various and important practical 
applications. My examination of it may be imperfect, 
(and, in truth, considering the variety of topics embraced 
in it, cannot well be otherwise,) and yet I cannot but in- 
dulge the hope, that some obscurities have been cleared 
up, that some leading principles have been established, 
B2 



XIV PREFACE. 

and that the subject is placed in various respects in a 
satisfactory hght. But of this the candid reader, who 
will take the trouble to examine with suitable care what 
has been written, will be able to form a more accurate 
judgment for himself. 

Thomas C. Upham. 
Bowdoin College, May, 1840. 



CONTENTS. 
PART I. 

GENERAL NATURE OF THE "WILL. 
CHAPTER I. 

CLASSIFICATION OF THE MENTAL POWERS. 
Section Paga 

1. Of the method of inquiry proper to be pursued . . . .25 

2. The Will should be examined in connexion with other parts of 

the mind 28 

3. The states of the mind may be regarded in a threefold view . ib. 

4. Evidence of the general arrangement from Consciousness . . 29 

5. Evidence of the same from terms found in different languages . 31 

6. Evidence from incidental remarks in writers . . . .32 

7. Further proof from various writers on the mind . . . .35 

8. Ai'knowledge of the Will implies a preliminary knowledge of the 

Intellect 37 

9. Implies a preliminary knowledge also of the Sensibilities . . 38 

CHAPTER 11. 

RELATION OF THE INTELLECT TO THE WILt. 

10. A connexion existing among all the parts and powers of the mind 40 

11. The intellectual part the foundation or basis of the action of the 

other parts of the mind 41 

12. The connexion of the understanding with the will . . .42 

13. The connexion of the understanding with the will shown from its 

connexion with action 43 

14. Further proof from an obsei-vation of the conduct of men . . 45 

15. Illustration of the statements of the preceding section . . . 46 

16. Of the nature of the connexion between the understanding and will 48 

17. Of the opmions of Mr. Locke on this point 49 

18. Opinions of Sir .Tames Mackintosh on the same subject . . 51 

19. The understanding reaches the will through the sensibilities . 53 

20. The acts of the intellect the direct antecedents to emotions . 54 

21. Emotions change with changes in the intellectual perceptions . 55 

22. The powers of the will not perfectly correspondent to those of the 

intellect 56 

23. An energetic will sometimes found in connexion with limited 

powers of intellect 58 

CHAPTER in. 

RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES TO THE WILL. 



24. General statement in explanation of the term sensibilities . 

25. Of what are strictly included under the sensibilities 

26. Acts of the intellect in immediate proximity with emotions 

27. Emotions not in proximity with volitions . . . . 

28. Emotions followed by desires and feelings of obligation 



60 
61 
64 
66 
67 



XVI CONTENTS. 

Section Saga 

29. Desires in proximity with the will . . . . . .67 

30. Obligatory feelings also in proximity with the will . . .68 

31. Further remarks and illustrations on this subject . . .70 

32. Opinions of metaphysical writers on the foregoing statements . 71 
33. -Of the strength of the desires 72 

34. Of the strength of feelings of obligation 75 

35. Of the influence of the sensibilities on the understanding . . 76 

CHAPTER IV. 

VOLITIONS, OR VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 

36. The necessity of that controlling power Which exists in the will 78 

37. Remarks on the nature of the will 80 

38. Of the nature of the acts of the will or voUtions . . . .81 

39. Volition never exists without some object 82 

40. It exists only in reference to what we believe to be in our power 83 

41. Volition relates to our own action and to whatever else may be 

dependent upon us 84 

42. Volitions involve a prospective element 87 

43. Volitions may exist with various degrees of strength . . .88 

44. Causes of the variation of the strength of the voluntary exercise 89 

45. Further illustrations of the same subject 90 

46. Of preference or indifference as applicable to the will . . .91 

CHAPTER V. 

DISTINCTION BETWEEN DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 

47. Of an objection sometimes made to the general arrangement . 94 

48. Probable cause of desires and volitions being confounded . . 95 

49. The distinction of desires and volitions asserted by consciousness 96 

50. Desires differ from volitions in fixedness and permanency . .98 

51. Further proof of this distinction from language . . . .99 

52. Sentiments of esteem and honour often imply this distinction . 100 

53. Of some strictures on the foregoing remarks of Reid . . . 101 

54. Volition may exist in respect to those complex acts which the 

mind can embrace as one 103 

55. If the distinction in question do not exist, the foundation of morals 

becomes unsettled 105 

56. Instances in illustration of the distinction in question . . . 107 

57. Other instances in illustration of proof 108 

58. Proofs drawn from some facts in the constitution of the mind . 109 

59. Of the chastisements of the Supreme Being inflicted on those he 

loves Ill 

60. Objected that these views lead to contradictions .... 113 

61. Opinions of Mr. Locke and others on this subject . . . 115 



PART II. 

LAWS OF THE WILL. 
CHAPTER I. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 

62. The preceding chapters preparatory to what follows . . . 119 

63. Of the importance of the topics now entered upon . . . 120 

64. The inquiry, whether the will has its laws preliminary to that of 

its freedom 122 



CONTENTS. XVil 

Section Page 

65. Everything throughout nature has its laws 123 

66. Reference to remarks of Cicero on the universality of law . . 124 

67. Reference to remarks of Hooker on the universality of law . . 125 

68. The universality of law implied in the belief of a Divine existence 127 

69. A presumption thus furnished in favour of the subjection of the 

will to law 129 

CHAPTER II. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 

70. Of the existence of a moral government 130 

71. Laws of the will deducible from the first principles of moral gov- 

ernment ... 131 

72. Laws of the will inferred from that supremacy or paramount au- 

thority which is implied in a moral government . . . 132 

73. Inferred also from the fact, that the subjects of a moral government 

must be endued with adequate powers of obedience . . 133 

74. Laws of the will inferred from that rationality which is essential 

to the subjects of a moral government 134 

75. Laws of the will inferred from the fact that in the administration 

of a moral government motives are employed .... 136 

76. Inferred also from the application of rewards and punishments . 137 

77. The same inferred from the fact that the moral government of the 

present life is in its nature disciplinary 138 

78. That the will has laws implied in the existence of virtue and vice 139 

CHAPTER in. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT 
OP THE DEITV. 

79. The notion which men naturally form of the Deity implies fore- 

knowledge 142 

80. The prescience of God involved and implied in his omniscience . 143 

81. The prescience of God directly taught in the Scriptures . . 145 

82. The foreknowledge of events implies the foreknowledge of voli- 

tions 146 

83. Of the reasonableness of the foregoing views .... 148 

84. Application of these views to the will ib. 

85. The views of this chapter in harmony with the doctrine of the m- 

fluences of the Holy Spirit 149 

CHAPTER IV. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT 
OF MEN. 

86. Man as well as Deity susceptible of foresight . ... I\i0 

87. Prescience or foresight of men in respect to their own situation 

and conduct 151 

88. Foresight of men in respect to the conduct of others . . . 153 

89. Other familiar instances of this foresight 154 

90. The fact of laws of the will shown from the regularity ot volun- 

tary contributions and of deposites 165 

91. Of sagacity in the estimate of individual character . . . 157 
92 Foresight of the conduct of masses of men and nations . . 159 
93. Proof from the regularity observable in the commission of crime 161 



XVIU CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 

LAWS OF THE WILL INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 
Section ftge 

94. The doctrine of the will's subjection to law confirmed by con- 

sciousness 163 

95. The same confirmed by the fact of the will's not being a subject, 

but an attribute 164 

96. The same confirmed by the fact, that every exercise of the will 

implies an object 165 

97. Confirmed also by the fact, that every exercise of the will imphes 

a motive 166 

98. Confirmed also by the fact, that every exercise of the will implies 

belief ........... 168 

99. Statement of other laws that are involved in the constitution or 

nature of the will itself 169 

100. Proof on the subject before us from instances of predominant 

emotion and passion 170 

101. Of the sense in which the proposition under consideration is to 

be understood 172 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE LAW OF CAUSALITY AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 

102. Of certain laws or principles which extend to all classes of objects 174 

103. A belief in the law of causality founded in the peculiar structure 

of the human mind 175 

176 
178 
179 
180 
183 
184 
187 
188 



104. Of the universality of belief in the law of causality 

106. Of the classification into Preparative and Effective causes 

106. Nature of Preparative and Effective causes . 

107. Opinions of various philosophers on this subject . 

108. Opinions of President Edwards on this subject 

109. Results of a denial of the law of causality . 

110. Application of the views of this chapter to the will 

111. Of the common and practical application of these views 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 

112. Belief of men in the continued uniformity of nature's operations . 190 

113. This belief exists in reference to mind as well as matter . . 192 

114. Circumstances under which this belief arises .... 193 

115. Of the true idea of chance, in distinction from uniformity . . 194 

116. Grounds or foundation of this belief 196 

117. Reference to the opinions of Reid and Abercrombie . . . 197 

118. Application of these views to the will 199 

119. Application of these views to sciences having relation to human 

conduct 200 

120. On the practical tendency of the general doctrine of law in its ap- 

plication to the will 202 

CHAPTER VIII. 

NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

121. Of motives and their bearing upon the general doctrine of the 

will's subjection to law 203 

122. Of the division of motives into Internal and External . . . 204 

123. External motives derive their efficacy from the mind . . . 205 



CONTENTS. XIX 

Section Page 

124. The character of motives depends in part on the constitutional 

traits of the individual 207 

125. Their character depends in part on temporary influences . . 208 

126. Further division of motives into Natural or Personal, and Moral 209 

127. Further statements illustrative of the distinction between natural 

and moral motives 210 

128. Motives coextensive with volitions 212 

129. Nature of the influence of motives . . . ' . . . 214 

130. Of the will's being governed by the strongest motive . . . 215 

131. Of the elements of the contest within 218 



PART III. 

FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 
CHAPTER I. 

NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

132. Of bodily in distinction from mental freedom . . . .223 

133. Of unsuccessful attempts to explain the nature of freedom . . 224 

134. Freedom, considered as an element of thought rather than as a 

thing in actual realization, is the name of a simple abstract idea 225 

135. Occasions of the origin of the abstract idea of liberty . . . 227 

136. Of the undefinableness of the term freedom 228 

137. Supposed definitions of freedom are either mere synonyms, or em- 

brace some element which itself requires explanations . . ib. 

138. Distinction between the idea and reahty of liberty . . . 230 

139. Of the source of our knowledge of liberty itself in distinction from 

the abstract idea of liberty 231 

140. Of the precise import of the phrase moral liberty . . . 232 

CHAPTER II. 

MENTAL HARMONY THE BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

141. Statement of the inquiry in this chapter 233 

142. Occasions on which liberty exists 235 

143. Of the circumstances under which this mental harmony may be 

expected to exist 236 

144. Opinions of Bishop Butler on conscience ..... 237 

145. Objected that perfect harmony of the mind is not realized in the 

present life 239 

146. Perfection of mental harmony and consequent mental liberty il- 

lustrated from the character of the Saviour .... 240 

147. Objected that the foregoing views are necessarily, and in their very 

terms, inconsistent with liberty 242 

CHAPTER III. 

FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

148. Remarks on the nature of the freedom of the will . . . 244 

149. Of the relation of the freedom of the will to the fact of its subjec- 

tion to law 245 

150. Circumstances or occasions under which freedom of the will exists 247 

151. Evidence of the freedom of the will from consciousness . .249 

152. Of an objection to the argument from consciousness . . . 250 

153. Illustration of the will's freedom, drawn from the nature of motives 252 

154. Remarks in continuation of this subject 253 

155. Objected that the will is necessarily governed by the strongest 

motive 256 



XX CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FREEDOM OP THE WILL IMPLIED IN MAN's MORAL NATURE. 
SectioD Page 

156. Remarks on the nature or mode of the argument . . . 257 

157. Of the elements of man's moral nature 258 

158. Evidence of freedom of the will from feelings of approval and dis- 

approval 259 

159. Proof of freedom from feelings of remorse 260 

160. Without the possession of liberty of will man could never have 

framed the abstract notions of right and wrong . . .261 

161. Proof from feelings of moral obligation 263 

162. Evidence from men's views of crimes and punishments . . 264 

163. Prevalent opinions of mankind on this subject . . . .266 

CHAPTER Y. 

OTHER PROOFS OF FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

164. Evidence of the freedom of the will from languages . . . 267 

165. Evidence from the occasional suspension of the will's acts . . 268 

166. Evidence of the freedom of the will from the control which every 

man has over his own motives of action 269 

167. The freedom of the will further shown from the attempts of men 

to influence the conduct of their fellow-men .... 271 

168. Further evidence from the observation of men's conduct . . ib. 

169. Argued further from the view taken in the Scriptures . . 273 

170. Practical importance of the doctrine of liberty .... 274 

CHAPTER VI. 

CONSISTENCY OP LAW AND FREEDOM. 

171. Objected that the views maintained are contradictory . . 277 

172. Answered that they result necessarily from the evidence . . 278 

173. Denial of the alleged contradiction 280 

174. Admission of inexplicableness or mystery . . . . .281 

175. Of the limited powers of the human mini . . . . ; 283 

176. We find things which cannot be explained everywhere . . 284 

177. Illustrated from the influence of one man over another . . 285 

178. The opposite supposition attended with equal difEculty . . 286 

179. Both views are to be fully received 287 

180. The doctrine of the will's freedom equally important with that of 

its subjection to law 288 



CHAPTER VII. 

ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OP THE WILL. 

181. Of the occasions of mental enthralment 289 

182. Inability to define enthralment or slavery 291 

183. The nature of mental enthralment illustrated by a reference to 

extorted promises 292 

184. Illustration of the same subject from cases of torture . . . 293 

185. Historical illustrations of the subject 295 

186. The will enthralled by the indulgence of the appetites . . 297 

187. Enthralment of the will occasioned by predominant and overru- 

ling propensities 298 

188. The will enthralled by inordinate ambition 300 

189. The will enslaved by the indulgence of the passions . . . 301 

190. Inordinate intensity of the domestic affections .... 302 

191. Of the slavery of the will in connexion with moral accountability 304 



CONTENTS. XXI 

PART IV. 

POWEK OF THE WILL. 
CHAPTER I. 

NATURE OP MENTAL POWER. 
Section Page 

192. Of the distinction between liberty and power . . . .309 

193. Proof of the distinction between liberty and power . . .310 

194. The distinction of power and liberty involved in the fact of our 

being able to form the abstract ideas of power and liberty .311 

195. Distinction of power and hberty shown from language . . 312 

196. Further shown from the fact of our possessing a moral nature . 313 

197. Origin of the idea of power in Original Suggestion . . .314 

198. Occasions of the origin of the idea of power . . . .315 

199. The idea of power involves the reality of power .... 316 

200. Things exist which are not made known by the senses . . 317 

201. Of power as an attribute of the human mind . . . .318 

202. Further shown by a reference to the Divine Mind . . . 320 

CHAPTER n. 

POWER OF THE WILL. 

203. Proof of power in the will from the analogy of the mind . . 322 

204. The power of the will restricted and subordinate . . . 323 

205. Proof of power in the will from internal experience . . . 324 

206. Proved from the ability which we have to direct our attention to 

particular subjects 325 

207. Proof of power in the will from observation .... 326 

208. Of power of the will as exhibited in patience under suffering . 328 

209. Illustration of the subject from the command of temper . . 329 

210. Further illustrations of this subject 330 

211. Proved from the concealment of the passions on sudden and try- 

ing occasions 331 

212. Further instances of concealment and repression of the passions 333 

213. Illustrated from the prosecution of some general plan . . . 334 

214. The subject illustrated from the course of the first settlers of 

New-England 336 

215. Illustrated by the fortitude exhibited by Savages . . . 337 

CHAPTER III. 

SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

216. General remarks on a self-determining power .... 338 

217. Of a self-determining power of the mind 339 

218. Of the objective or outward sphere of the mind's activity. . . 340 

219. Of a self-determining power of the will 341 

220. Of such a self-determining power of the will as involves the de- 

pendence of the present volition on a former one . . . 343 

221 . Opinions of President Edwards on this subject .... 344 

CHAPTER IV. 

DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

222. Differences in voluntary power seldom noticed .... 345 

223. Remarks on constitutional weakness of the will .... 346 



XXll CONTENTS. 

Sectioa Page 

224. Of comparative or relative weaiiness of the will .... 347 

225. Instances of want of energy of the will 348 

226. Remarks on great strength of the will 350 

227. Energy of the will as displayed under bodily suffering . .351 

228. Energy of the will as shown in imminent danger . . . 353 

229. Energy of the will as shown in martyrdoms .... 354 

230. Subject illustrated from two classes of pubhc speakers . . 356 

231. Power of the will requisite in the military and other arts . . 358 

232. Energy of the will requisite in the men of revolutions . . 359 

233. Practical application of these views . ... . . . 362 

CHAPTER V. 

CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTEE. 

234. Connexion of the philosophy of the will with consistency of char- 

acter 363 

235. Illustrations of the inconsistent character 365 

236. Illustrations of the consistent character 366 

2.37, Of Individuals remarkable for consistency of character . . 367 

238. Of the value of consistency in the religious character . . . 368 

239. Of the foundation or basis of consistency and inconsistency of 

character 371 

240. Of inconsistency of belief in connexion with inconsistency of 

conduct and character . ...... 372 

241. Self-possession an element of consistency of character . .374 

242. Consistency implies perseverance under changes of circumstances 375 

243. Consistency implies a control over the passions . . , . 376 

CHAPTER VI. 

DISCIPjLINE OF THE WILL. 

244. Importance of a due discipline of the voluntary power . . 378 

245. A due balance of all the powers the most favourable state of 
things to the just exercise of the will 380 

246. Of the culture of the appetites, propensities, and passions, as aux- 

iliary to the discipline of the will 382 

247. Some instances and proofs of the foregoing statements . . 384 

248. Importance of repressing the outward signs of the passions . . 387 

249. Of enlightening the intellect in connexion with the discipline of 

the will . 390 

250. Further remarks on the same subject 392 

251. Of aiding the will by a reference to the regard of others . .394 

252. Of aiding the will by a reference to the conscience . . . 396 

253. Of the aids furnished by the principle of imitation . . . 397 

254. Of aiding the will by placing ourselves in circumstances which 

do not admit of a retreat 399 

255. Of the effects of habit in giving strength to the will . . .400 

256. Of strengthening the will by religious considerations . . . 401 



PART L 



GENERAL NATURE OF THE WILL. 



mwmismyjMinmPHMSjjmtsM^Kaxt^m 



THE WILL. 

CHAPTER I. 

CLASSIFICATION OF THE MENTAL POWERS. 

§ 1. Of the method of inquiry proper to he pursued. 

We now begin to approach the termination of these 
diversified and protracted inquiries. Having explored, 
so far as seemed to he necessary, the Intellect and the 
Sensibilities in their various forms of action, it now only 
remains to attempt to give a Philosophy of the Will. 

In entering upon a discussion of the various questions 
connected with the Will, it is perhaps proper to make a 
few observations upon the course which we deem it ex- 
pedient to pursue. And here we remark particularly, 
that it will be om- deshe to rest mainly upon facts, and 
the obvious deductions from them ; and to avoid, as much 
as possible, mere speculation. The indulgence of specu- 
lation, the giving loose to discursive flights, is often flat- 
tering to pride of intellect, and is perhaps indicative of 
the consciousness of mental power ; but it is not on all 
subjects, unless controlled and mitigated by a frequent re- 
cm-rence to facts, favourable to the ascertainment of truth. 

C 



26 CLASSIFICATION OF 

The inquiiies before us, so far at least as the mode of 
conducting them is concerned, ought to be prosecuted in 
essentially the same manner as our inquiries into the phys- 
ical world. What we -svish to know are the simple facts 
that exist, and the general laws which these facts obvi- 
ously develope and clearly prove, in distinction from mere 
conjectures, however ingenious they may be. We appre- 
hend, that this course, if we promise ourselves a favourable 
issue, is necessary in all discussions in respect to the iriind, 
to whatever aspects of mind and to whatever powers 
they may relate. 

Especially is this true in respect to the Philosophy of 
the Will, not only on account of the peculiar nature 
of the Will's operations, but also for another ob^dous 
reason. There must be evidently some point in the men- 
tal constitution, which connects man with his Maker. 
Ready as we are to grant, that men have liberty and 
power in their appropriate sphere of action, it is never- 
theless true, that they are- not in the strict sense of the 
term independent. All created beings, however great 
their powers may be, form but so many links in the im- 
mense chain of existence, that extends from the throne of 
God down to the humble forms of life, that approach 
nearest to inanimate matter. All, therefore, must, in 
some way, be connected with that great Source of exist- 
ence, without whom, considered as the origin of being, 
there evidently could be existence nowhere. And ac- 
cordingly, it is in the Will, in the voiitive or voluntary 
part of our mental constitution, that we find the point of 
union, the position of contact with the Di\ine Mind ; for 
the Divine Mind, it should never be forgotten, runs through 
and connects itself with the whole range of created exist- 
ences, holding them in their allotted spheres, and main- 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 27 

taining, even in the remotest parts of the universe, the unity 
of place and of subordination. Accordingly, in the ex- 
amination of the Will we must expect to meet Avith the 
apparently inconsistent attributes of freedom, dependence, 
and power, existing and imiting harmoniously in the 
same being. It is here, of com-se, that we meet with 
much, not only to perplex our judgment and to try our 
faith, but to encourage an irregular and imxestrained spec- 
ulation. How necessary, then, to be on om- guard, to 
proceed with caution, to keep our powers of investigation 
strictly within the legitimate limits of their action, and 
to be governed by those sentiments of modesty which are 
suitable to falhble beings ! 

We are aware that this proposed course is not altogether 
in accordance wdth what is termed the spirit of the age, 
wliich seems to call constantly for exaggeration ; for what 
is novel, strange, and unprecedented ; for something that 
will arouse and astonish, rather than convince. But this 
diseased and inordinate appetite for novelty and excite- 
ment ought to be rebuked rather than encouraged ; and 
least of ^1 should it be permitted to find nourishment and 
support in the calm regions of philosophy. Let us then 
proceed to the interesting and difficult inquiry before us, 
(a subject which almost from the beginning of time has 
occupied the strongest minds and furnished the theatre for 
unremitting contests,) with those chastened feelings of 
moderation and caution which have been recommended, 
and relying chiefly upon facts and the legitimate inferen- 
ces which they fm'nish, and indulging as little as possible 
in speculation, be content with what we may be able to 
establish on a firm foundation, without complaining that 
our limited and imperfect powers require some things to 
be left in obscurity. 



28 CLASSIFICATION OF 



§ 2. The Will should he examined in connexion mth 
other parts of the mind. 

It must constantly strike the observer, who carefully 
contemplates the facts which the universe everywhere ex- 
hibits, that no object which exists is wholly disconnect- 
ed from other objects. Accordingly, in attempting to ex- 
amine the nature of the Will, and in considering it in the 
various aspects in which it presents itself to our notice, it 
is obvious that we must not regard it as standing alone, 
and apart from everything else. It is true that we speak 
of the Philosophy of the Will, in distinction from that of 
the Intellect and the Sensibilities, but it is certainly not the 
less true that the Will participates in the general nature of 
the mind, and that it has a close connexion and sympa 
thy with all its various modes of action. The general 
nature of the soul could not be altered, nor greatly affect- 
ed in any way, without at the same time affecting the 
Will. Nor could a single susceptibility, even one of 
minor importance, be either struck out from the list of its 
attributes, or be greatly changed, without being attended 
with the same result. In the present discussion, therefore, 
we are naturally and urgently led to take a concise re- 
view of the general structure of the mind, for the purpose 
of more fully comprehending the relation which the 
Will sustains to the other parts. 

§ 3. The states of the mind may be regarded in a 
threefold view. 

Although we properly ascribe to the human soul the 
attribute of oneness or indivisibility, and it is very impor- 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 29 

tant that we should keep tliis leading truth in mind, still 
there is abimdant reason for saying that its nature can 
never be fully understood by contemplating it solely and 
exclusively under one aspect. There are, accordingly, 
three prominent and well-defined points of view, in which 
the mind may be contemplated, viz., the Intellect, the 
Sensibilities, and the Will ; other^dse expressed by the 
phi'ases intellective, sensitive, and voluntary or voli- 
TiVE states of the mind. Accordingly, as we have had 
occasion to remark in another place, whatever truly and 
appropriately belongs to the intellect, has something pecu- 
liar and characteristic of it, v/hich shuts it out from the 
domain of the sensibilities ; and whatever has the nature 
of a volition has a position apart both from the intellect- 
ual and the sensitive. And we repeat here, that this is 
a fundamental arrangement, which, when properly and 
fully carried out and applied, includes the w^hole soul ; 
and that to the one or the other of these general heads 
everything involved in our mental existence may appro- 
priately be referred. 

§ 4. Evidence of the general arrangement Jrom 
Consciousness. 

In the introductory chapters to the volume on the In- 
tellect, it was assumed, as a sort of preliminary principle, 
that the mind, in order to our being enabled to give a sat- 
isfactory analysis of it, must be contemplated in this 
threefold view. Accordingly, we thought it proper to 
bring forward some proofs on the subject, to such an ex- 
tent and in such a w^ay as seemed to be necessary. And 
if we could be certain, that every one who reads this 
volume, had read or Avould be likely to read the passages 
C 2 



30 CLASSIFICATION OF 

referred to, it might not be necessary to delay upon this 
topic here. But as this may not be the case, and as there 
are some reasons why the Philosophy of the Will should 
stand in a considerable degree complete in itself, we shall 
take the liberty to repeat here, with some modifications of 
expression and of illustration, the arguments already ad- 
duced in support of the General Division in question. 

And in the first place, the general arrangement wliich 
has been spoken of, viz., into the Intellective, Sensitive, 
and Voluntary or Volitive states of the mind, appears to be 
confirmed by the facts of our Consciousness. 

Mental philosophers very correctly assure us, that our 
knowledge of the human mind depends in a very great 
degree upon Consciousness ; and that by means of it we 
are enabled to ascertain what thought and feeling are in 
themselves, and to distinguish them from each other. 
Certain it is, if we reject the authority of Consciousness, 
we shall be involved in great difficulty, and cannot rea- 
sonably expect to make much progress in this kind of in- 
quiry. But if it be true that the existence and distinctive 
character of the mental acts is made known, in a good 
degree at least, by consciousness, and that we may justly 
and confidently rely on its testimony, we naturally inquire, 
What does it teach in the present case 1 And in answer- 
ing this question, we may safely appeal to any person's 
recollections, and ask, Whether he has ever been in dan- 
ger of confounding a mere perception, a mere thought, 
either with emotions and desires on the one hand, or with 
volitions on the other 1 Does not his consciousness assure 
him, that the mental states, which we thus distinguish by 
these different terms, are not identical ; that the one class 
is not the other ; that they as actually differ from each 
other as association does from belief, or imagination from 
memory ? 



THE BIENTAL POWERS. 31 

It would seem, therefore, that we may rest in this in- 
quiry upon men's consciousness ; not of one merely, but 
of any and all men. The universal testimony from this 
source is unquestionably the same. And the announce- 
ment which it makes is, that the leading departments of 
the mental nature are in some important sense separated 
from each other. The understanding, standing apart and 
distinguishable from the rest, may be regarded as holding 
the incipient or preparatory position. The Sensibilities 
also, in their two leading forms of the Natiual and the 
Moral Sensibihty, have their appropriate place. And the 
same may be said with equal confidence of the other 
great department of the mind. 

§ 5. Evidence of the same from terms found in different 

languages. 

It was further maintained in the volume on the Intel- 
lect, that we are enabled to throw some light on this sub- 
ject from a consideration of the terms which are found in 
various languages. The train of thought was to this 
effect. Every language is, to some extent and in some 
important sense, a mirror of the mind. Something, con- 
sequently, may be learned of the tendency of the mental 
operations, not only from the form or structure of language 
in general, but even from the import of particular terms. 
There can be no hesitation in saying, that every language 
has its distinct terms, expressive of the threefold view of 
the mind under consideration, and which are constantly 
used with a distinct and appropriate meaning, and "with- 
out being interchanged with each other as if they were 
synonymous. In other words, there are terms in all those 
languages which are spoken by nations considerably ad- 



32 CLASSIFICATION OF 

vanced in mental culture, which correspond to the Eng- 
lish terms, intellect, sensibilities, will. If such terms 
are generally found in languages, differing from each 
other in form and in meaning, it is certainly a strong ch- 
cumstance in proof, that the distinction, which we propose 
to establish, actually exists. On the supposition of its 
having no existence, it seems impossible to explain the 
fact, that men should so universally agree in making it. 
If, on the other hand, it does exist, it is reasonable to sup- 
pose that it exists for some purpose ; and existing for 
some purpose, it must of com'se become known; and 
being known, it is naturally expressed in language, the 
same as any other object of knowledge. And this is 
what we find to be the case. So that we may consider 
the expression to be an evidence of the fact ; the sign, an 
intimation and evidence of the reahty of the thing sig- 
nified. 

§ 6. Evidence from incidental remarks in vyriters. 

And it appeared further in our former examination of 
this subject, that there are yet other sources of evidence 
which have a bearing upon it. No small amount of men- 
tal knowledge, it was there intimated, may be gathered 
from the incidental remarks of %vriters of careful observa- 
tion and good sense. And accordingly, if we find re- 
marks expressive of mental distinctions, repeatedly made 
by such men, when they are not formally and professedly 
iTeating of the mind, it furnishes a strong presmnption 
that such distinctions actually exist. Their testimony is 
given under circumstances the most favom-able to an un- 
biased opinion ; ' and ought to be received into the vast 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 33 

amount of evidence, drawn from a great variety of som*- 
ces, which goes to illustrate the true nature of the soul. 

We shall accordingly introduce here a few passages of 
the kind which has been mentioned, which, in connexion 
with the passages formerly introduced in the chapter on 
the subject now before us, will help to confirm the pro- 
priety of the proposed general division. — " Loyalty," says 
Junius in his First Letter, " in the heart and understand- 
ing of an Englishman, is a natural attachment to the 
guardian of the laws." — Bishop Burnet, in speaking of 
Archbishop Tillotson, says, " He was a man of the truest 
judgment and the best temper I had ever known. He 
had a clear head, with a most tender and compassionate 
HEART."* In some comments which Boswell, in his Life 
of Dr. Johnson, makes on the writings and character of 
Rousseau, he has the following remark : " His absurd 
preference of savage to civilized life, and other singulari- 
ties, are proofs rather of a defect in his understanding, 
than of any depravity in his heart."! 

These passages, and others like them, although they do 
not go to the full extent of the proposed General Division, 
evidently involve the distinction between the Understand- 
ing and the Sensibilities, or the intellective and sensitive 
states of the mind. Passages of this kind, which inci- 
dentally involve the distinction between the Intellect and 
the Sensibilities, and also others which involve the dis- 
tinction between the Intellect and the Will, or between 
the Sensibilities and the Will, may be found so very fre- 
quently, that it must be quite unnecessary to repeat them. 

There are other passages, less frequent indeed, and yet 
abundantly numerous for our present purpose, which in a 

* Burnet's History of his Own Time, Reign of Williana and Mary, 
t Life of Jolmson, vol. i., p. 431. 



34 CLASSIFICATION OF 

single sentence, and apparently with entire imconscious- 
ness on the part of the writer, imply the distinction under 
consideration in its whole extent. Such is the passage 
which was quoted in the volume on the Intellect from 
Lord Chesterfield, who, in giving directions to his son as 
to the manner of conducting negotiations with foreign 
ministers, makes use of the following language : " If you 
engage his heart, you have a fair chance of imposing 
upon his UNDERSTANDING, and determining his will."* — 
Such is the remark also, introduced in the same place, of 
Drake, the author of the Literary Hours, that the deficien- 
cies of Sir Richard Steele, formerly well known as one of 
the popular writers of England, were neither of the head 
nor of the heart, but of the voLiTioN.f 

We do not propose, however, after what has already 
been said in the Introductory Chapters of the volume on 
the Intellect, to multiply extracts here. One or two 
instances more will suflfice. 

The author of a recently published Inquiry concerning 
the Indications of Insanity, in describing the condition of 
a person whose mind is disordered, expresses himself as 
follows: "His will is no longer restrained by his judg- 
ment, but is driven madly onward by his passions." J 

Nor are the passages, which incidentally involve the 
distinction in question, to be foimd in the more modern 
writers merely. Francis Davison, who wrote some po- 
etical pieces as long ago as 1602, has the following 
stanza : 

* Chesterfield, London ed., vol. iii., p. 137. 

t Drake's Essays, illustrative of the Tattler, Spectator, and Guardian, 
vol. i., p. 50. 

t Conolly's Inquiries concerning the Indications of Insanity, &c., 
London ed., p. 261. 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 36 

" Where wit is overruled by Will, 
And will is led by fond Desire, 
There Reason were as good be still, 
As speaking, kindle greater fire." 

In the first Book of the Novum Organum (Aphorism 
49th), Lord Bacon, no mean authority in mental as well 
as in physical inquiries, makes the remark, as if it were a 
common and well-known fact, that the Intellect is sus- 
ceptible of influences from the Will and the Affections. 
" Intellectus hutmanus Imninis sicci non est 3 sed recipit 
infusionem a voluntate et affectibus." 

§ 7. Further 'proof from various writers on the mind. 

The distinction in question has also been fully recog- 
nised, sometimes incidentally, and sometimes in a more 
formal manner, by various distinguished writers on the 
mind. In the volume on the Intellect, and in connexion 
with the same general subject which is now before us, we 
had occasion to quote the following somewhat striking 
passage from Mr. Locke : " Thus, by a due consideration, 
and examining any good proposed, it is in our power to 
raise our desires in a due proportion to the value of that 
good, w^hereby in its turn and place it may come to work 
upon the ivill, and be pursued. For good, though ap- 
pearing, and allowed ever so great, yet till it has raised 
desires in our minds, and thereby made us uneasy in its 
want, it reaches not our loills."'^' Here it must be obvi- 
ous to every one that the threefold division in question is 
distinctly recognised. The due consideration and exam- 
ining, which are spoken of, imply an act of the intellect ; 
the desires, which are subsequently raised, are appropri- 
* Essay on the Understanding, book ii., ch. xxi., (f 46. 



36 CLASSIFICATION OF 

ately ascribed to the sensibilities ; and these last are fol- 
lowed by an act of the other part of our nature, viz., the 
■will. 

Omitting the other passages, which were introduced in 
the former discussion of the subject from Hume, Mackin- 
tosh, Thery, and some others, it will perhaps tend to 
strengthen the general argument, if we give in the present 
place a few extracts from other distinguished writers, all 
obviously looking in the same direction and of the same 
import. — In the valuable writings of Dr. Reid, we have 
the following statement : " The distinction between Will 
and Desire has been well explained by Mr. Locke ; yet 
many later writers have overlooked it, and represented 
Desire as a modification of Will. — Desire and Will agree 
in this, that both must have an object, of which we must 
have some conception ; and therefore both must be ac- 
companied with some degree of understanding. But 
they diiFer in several things."* 

" Om' actions," says the ingenious author of the Light 
of Nature Pm'sued, " being constantly determined either 
by the decisions of our Judgment, or solicitations of our 
Desires, we mistake them for the Will itself "f 

Bockshammer, speaking of the Desires and Passions, 
while he regards them of inestimable worth in their prop- 
er place, says, that they are subordinate powers, " and 
should, therefore, never be released from the guardianship 
and guidance of the Understanding and Will."J 

" Whatever classification of the mental powers we may 
tliink proper to adopt," says President Day, " it is of the 

* Reid on the Active Powers of the Human Mind, Essay I. 
t Tucker's I^ight of Nature Pursued, Art. Freewill, $ 8. 
t Bockshammer on the Freedom of the Human Will, Kaufman's 
Translation, p. 36. 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 37 

first importance to bear steadily in mind, that distinct fac- 
ulties are not distinct agents. They are different powers 
of one and the same agent. It is the man that perceives, 
and loves, and hates, and acts ; not his Understanding, or 
his Heart, or his Will, distinct from himself."* 

Passages similar to these, sometimes incidentally and 
sometimes more formally introduced in their writings, are 
not unfi'equently found in the works of men, who are fa- 
vourably known as mental philosophers ; and whose opin- 
ions ai'e justly entitled to great weight on any matter con- 
nected with mental operations. The extracts, which have 
now been made, are too easy and obvious in their appli- 
cation to the subject under consideration to require any 
comment. 

§ 8. ^ knowledge of the Will implies a prelimAnary 
knowledge of the Intellect. 

Undoubtedly illustrations and proofs might be carried 
to a much greater extent. But probably enough has 
been said, in other parts of these inquiries if not here, to 
explain precisely the views which we entertain on this 
subject, to intimate and partially unfold the various sources 
of proof, and to shield us from the imputation of asserting 
what cannot be maintained. Supported by consciousness, 
the structm-e of languages, the incidental remarks of 
writers on a multitude of occasions, and by the opinions 
of many able metaphysicians, we felt ourselves justified in 
going forward in our inquiries, and we now feel justified 
in continuing them, with the distinction in question as 
their basis. And now we have further to remark, if there 

* Day's Inquiry respecting the self-determining Power of the Will, 
p. 40. 

D 



38 CLASSIFICATION OF 

be that threefold distinction in the mind which has heen 
contended for, then each of these prominent parts may 
with great propriety be treated of separately ; that is to 
say, the Will may be made a subject of examination in 
distinction from the Understanding, and both in distinction 
from the Aifections, or more properly from the Sensibih- 
ties, which is the more general and appropriate term. 
But in the order of inquiry the Understanding naturally 
comes first, and then the Sensibilities, and the Will last. 
And hence we are led to observe, that a thorough knowl- 
edge of the Will necessarily implies a knowledge of the 
Understanding. 

We are compelled, therefore, to presmne, that the read- 
er is already acquainted with what has been variously 
termed the intellective, perceptive, or cognitive part of 
our nature; that he knows something of the nature of 
sensation and perception, and of the conceptive power, 
which in its external action is based upon them ; that he 
has some acquaintance Avith the power of original sugges- 
tion, with the judgment or relative suggestion, the memo- 
ry, reasoning, imagination, and the like, which are prop- 
erly included under the general head of the understand- 
ing or intellect. We indulge the hope that this presump- 
tion will prove well-founded. Certain it is, that no 
man is entitled to pronounce with confidence on any dis- 
cussion having relation to the Will, without possessing 
the elements and outlines, at least, of such prehminary 
knowledg-e. 



§ 9. Implies a preliTninari/ knowledge also of the 
Sensibilities. 

It seems proper to observe further, that similar remarks 



THE MENTAL POWERS. 39 

will apply to the Sensibilities. To a correct knowledge 
of the Will, a knowledge of the Sentient or Sensitive 
states of the mind cannot be considered less necessary 
than of the Intellective. And who that has given but 
even a slight attention to mental inquiries, can be suppo- 
sed ignorant of that interesting part of our nature 1 It is 
there we find the emotions which invest the various forms 
of nature with beauty and grandem\ It is there we are 
to seek for a knowledge of the propensities and passions, 
which bind men together in society ; the som-ces at once 
of their activity, their joy, and their sorrow. And there 
also we discover the elements of accountability, the feel- 
ings that approve and disapprove, the evidences and sig- 
natures of the law written within, which no one either 
obeys or violates without the appropriate reward or con- 
demnation. With this preparatory knowledge, we are 
ready to advance with some hope of a successful issue. 
The natm'al course of inquiry is tlirough the Understand- 
ing, and the Heart or Sensibilities, upward to the Will. 
The latter sustains the relation of a higher and more au- 
thoritative power J a point of view in which we shall 
more fully consider it in some following chapters. With- 
out this, all the rest, left without the supervision and con- 
trol of the master's hand, would be comparatively use- 
less. So that, in considering the position which the Will 
maintains, we are naturally reminded of the passage 
which Home Tooke has made so celebrated : 

" 'Tis the last keystone 
That makes the arch ; the rest, that there were put, 
Are nothing, till that comes to bind and shut." 



40 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 



CHAPTER n. 

RELATION OF THE INTELLECT TO THE WILL. 

§ 10. A connexion existing among all the parts and 
powers of the mind. 

In the preceding Chapter we have insisted on a three- 
fold view of the mind as fundamental ; and we may add 
here our conviction, that the recognition of this distinc- 
tion is not only fundamental in respect to a knowledge of 
the mind in general, but is particularly necessary to a full 
miderstanding of the doctrine of the Will. In truth, if 
there is not such a distinction, and if, on the contrary, the 
Volimtary part of our nature is truly identical ^^A\h. the 
Sensitive, as some philosophical lucubrations seem to 
maintain, it is very obvious that there can be no such 
thing as a Philosophy of the Will. 

But to assert and even to prove the existence of the 
important distinction which we have been contemplating, 
is not enough. It seems proper to say something further 
in illustration of the precise relation which the three lead- 
ing Departments of the mind sustain to each other. And 
as preliminary to this, we shall occupy a few moments in 
considering the connexion, which seems to exist among 
all the various powers of the mind, both those of a more 
general and those of a subordinate character. 

A very slight observation, it is believed, will suffice to 
teach us the general fact, that there is some bond of union, 
some principle of connexion pervading every variety of 



TO THE WILL. 41 

the mental action. And the fiu'ther this observation is 
carried on, the more obvious and indispensable will this 
connexion appear. If, for instance, we examine those 
subordinate powers, which are properly arranged together 
under the general head of the Intellect, we shall readily 
find this to be the case. There is no perception mthout 
the antecedent sensation ; there is no memory wthout at- 
tention ; no reasoning without both memory and associa- 
tion ; and neither reasoning nor imagination without the 
power of perceiving relations or relative suggestion. But 
in all these cases and in others, they stand, if we may be 
allowed the expression, side by side, ready to lend each 
other an assisting hand, and comparatively powerless and 
fruitless without this mutual aid. And if such be the state 
of things in the instances w^hich have been particularized, 
then analogy w^ould lead us to suppose, that there is a 
like principle of union running through and connecting 
together the more general departments of the mind ; and 
this too is abmidantly obvious on even a slight examina- 
tion. 

§ 11. The intellectual part the foundation or basis of the 
action of the other parts of the mind. 

Of the Understanding in particular, it may be said with 
some appearance of reason, that we find in it the founda- 
tion, the basis of the existence and of the action both of 
the Sensitive and of the Volimtary nature. Let us ex- 
amine this point, in the first place, in reference to the 
Sensibilities. When that part of our nature is in action, 
we find ourselves, according to the circumstances of the 
case, pleased or displeased ; we are filled with admiration 
or disgust j we love or hate ; we approve or disapprove j 
D2 



42 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

and exercise other emotions, desires, and passions. But 
the slightest examination will teach us that this could not 
be the case ; that these states of mind could not exist, 
"without the acquisition of knowledge, which of course 
implies the exercise of the intellect. If we approve or 
disapprove a thing, it is very evident that we must have 
a knowledge of some object of approval or disapproval ; 
that there must be something upon which these emotions 
can fasten. And again, if we exercise love or hatred, the 
intellect must have been previously employed in making 
known the existence and qualities of those objects, towards 
which the passions of love and hatred are directed. 

§ 12. The connexion of the understanding vnth the will. 

And these views will be foimd equally applicable to 
the Will. There can no more be an act of the will with- 
out some object of knowledge before the mind, than there 
can be remembrance "without a thing remembered, or as- 
sociation without an object, to which the principle of as- 
sociation attaches itself. Hence, if we could find a man, 
in whom the intellect is entirely destroyed in fact, or is 
"vdrtually destroyed by being entirely dormant, we should 
find at the same time an extinction both of the passions 
and the "will. 

Happily the records of the human race, "with the excep- 
tion of cases of idiocy and mental malformation, furnish 
but a solitary instance of that extreme extinction of the 
intellect which we now have in view ; we refer to the 
case of the unfortunate Caspar Hauser, whose melancholy 
history is so well known. As the intellect cannot be 
brought into action and made to develope itself, except 
by first coming into contact with the material world, the 



TO THE WILL. 43 

result of this young man's confinement from childhood in 
one place, and of liis entire seclusion from everything ex- 
ternal to his horrid prison, was, as would naturally be 
expected, the utter prostration of his Understanding. 
Scai'cely a ray of knowledge illuminated the intellective 
region. The feeble perceptions of early infancy, such as 
we find in those that have scarcely explored the bounda- 
ries of the cradle that rocks them, were in his case com- 
bined with a body that had nearly expanded itself to the 
fulness of manhood. Such imbecility and vacuity of the 
Litellect of course furnished no foundation for the devel- 
opement of the Sensibilities. If we may rely upon the 
accounts that are given of him, there was in general an 
unruffled and placid surface, a great cahn of the mind. 
And as there was no excitement, no tossing to and firo of 
the sensibilities, but everything there was wrapped up in 
slumber and inactivity ; so there was no developement of 
self-determination, no firmness of resolve, no inward vig- 
our and promptness of the voluntary power. The slightest 
impulse firom the minds of others was followed by the 
consentaneous and unresisting movement of his own ; and 
his Will, so far from indicating any elements of decision 
and stability, could be likened only to the flexible reed 
of the desert, w^hich, without knomng the power that 
presses it, is shaken and bent by every changing breeze. 

§ 13. The connexion of the understanding loith the loill 
shown froTTfi its connexion ivith action. 

As it is the object of this chapter to consider particu- 
larly the connexion existing between the Understanding 
and the Will, and the relation they sustain to each other, 
we may remark further, that the connexion of the intel- 



44 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

lectual ^vith the voluntary constitution is apparent from 
the connexion of the intellectual part or understanding 
with action. — Whatever difference of opinion there may- 
be in other respects, there is a general agreement in this, 
that the mind, both in its internal constitution and in its 
adaptation to outVv^ard objects, is evidently framed for 
movement. It was never meant to be essentially dormant, 
either in a state of unconsciousness or of mere contempla- 
tion and emotion ; but was rather, when we consider its 
connexion with other states and modes of existence, de- 
signed to be an attendant and ministering angel to the 
great Being who made it, performing His errands of ob- 
servation and mercy, in whatever sphere of activity He 
might see fit to designate. — And it seems to be further 
assented to, not only that the various parts of man's na- 
ture conspire to action, but also that the immediate and 
proximate seat and source of action is in the Will ; in 
other words, that the Will emphatically sustains the part 
of the directing, controlling, and executive power of the 
mind. The Will, in particular, leads to outward action. 
It must be obvious to every one that there can be no bod- 
ily action, excepting what is termed involuntary, without 
a concurrent act of the will ; and it is equally obvious 
that action, in its various forms, embraces the multiplied 
duties, and is the foundation of the usefulness of man. 

Now if these views be correct, and if we wholly dis- 
sever the understanding from action, where is its utility 1 
If the highest exertions of the intellect can lead to no 
possible results, except the mere accmnulation of an inop- 
erative and lifeless mass of knowledge, what are the ben- 
efits connected with it ? If we are assured on the highest 
authority, that knowledge without charity is no better 
than sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal, it is certainly 



TO THE WILL. 45 

of no more worth without practical results, without cor- 
respondent action. But if we are not prepared to admit, 
that the intellect, which is so often and so justly pronoun- 
ced the glory of man's nature, is without worth, it seems 
to .follow, that its value depends upon its connexion with 
the Will. Action, as we have seen, was undoubtedly one 
of the principal objects that was had in view in the crea- 
tion of the human mind ; but it is evident, that the Under- 
standing can have no connexion with action exterior to 
itself, and independently of its o'wn accumulative processes, 
except in the direction and with the concm'rent move- 
ment of the voluntary power. And on these grounds, 
among others, we may assert the relationship and the 
intimate comiexion of these two great departments of the 
mind. 

§ 14. Further proof from an observation of the conduct 
of men. 

In addition to the considerations which have already 
been brought forward, we may find further proofs of the 
connexion which is alleged to exist, in our manner of 
addressing men when w^e wish them to pursue a certain 
course. We do not address the Will directly and alone ; 
nor do we directly address ourselves to the emotions and 
passions of men ; but we commonly lay the basis of our 
efforts in a movement on the Understanding. We make 
this statement "svith a good degree of confidence ; and we 
appeal to every one's recollection, whether it be not true. 

A person, for instance, wishes another person to join 
with him in some enterprise ; and perhaps it is one of an 
exciting and difficult nature. But where does he begin ? 
Does he immediately lay a requisition upon the will, com- 



46 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

manding and requiring the individual to enter upon the 
proposed course at once ? Every one must see that this 
would certainly defeat his own purpose. If, therefore, he 
would indulge the hope of succeeding, he must act upon 
the Will, by taking advantage of the relations which, it 
sustains to other parts of our mental nature. According- 
ly, he commences his attempts by an appeal to the under- 
standing, endeavouring to show, by plain and incontro- 
vertible statements, the practicability, propriety, and ben- 
efits of his propositions; and he knows perfectly well, 
that, unless he succeeds in convincing the understanding, 
he has no prospect of rousing the will to action, and that 
the probability of a favourable movement on the part of 
the voluntary power will be in proportion, or nearly so, to 
the favourable position of the intellect. 

§ 15. Illustration of the statevnents of the 'preceding section. 

On the death of Julius Cffisar, Antony is represented 
by Shakspeare, who well knew what process was requi- 
site in effecting such an object, as endeavouring to stir up 
a " sudden flood of mutiny." But he does not command 
the multitude, who, in their state of want and ignorance, 
are ready for almost any purpose, whether good or evil, 
to go forth at once, and consummate his projects of fire 
and slaughter. Too shrewd an observer of human na- 
ture for this, it is worthy of notice, that he addresses 
neither the wall nor the passions, till he had first made a 
lodgment in the understanding. After saying, in excuse 
of his coming to speak at Csesar's funeral, that Csesar was 
a just and faithful friend to himself, he goes on to state, 
(what probably were the plain and undoubted facts in 
the case,) that Ceesar had brought to Rome many cap- 



TO THE WILL. 47 

tives ; that by their ransom-money he had filled the pub- 
lic coffers ; that he had wept over the sufferings of the 
poor ; that he had refused a kingly crown at the Luper- 
cal, &c. These statements, which were mere facts ad- 
dressed to the understanding, and some of them at least, 
and probably all of them, were incontrovertible, of course 
laid the foundation for a change in the passions, as they 
were designed to do. And the people, who just before 
had called Caesar a tyrant, and were glad that Rome was 
rid of him, now began to admit, imder the influence of a 
nascent leniency of feehng, that there was much reason in 
Antony's savings, and that Caesar had suffered wrong. 

Having thus prepared the way by removing the hostile 
feelings that antecedently existed, he now began to ply 
them in another du-ection. He told them of the greatness 
of Csesar ; of the power which he had once exercised ; of 
his abihty to stand against not one nation merely, but the 
whole world, though now so low that none would do him 
reverence. And when, still continuing to approach the 
feehngs by facts first addressed to the perceptive powers, 
he further proceeded to show them the bloody mantle, 
and to speak of the Testament which bequeathed to them 
his bountiful legacies, the passions, which had already 
begun to quicken in Caesar's favour, were kindled to a 
flame. It was then that the object of the speaker was 
accomphshed, as he foresaw it would be. There was no 
want of motives, no hesitancy of the will, no slowness to 
action. The fickle multitude, driven about like the bil- 
lows that are agitated by the ^vind, were no longer the 
friends of Brutus; nor were they indifferent and idle 
spectators. But rushing from street to street, and seizing 
such weapons as their purposes required, they called for 
revenge, slaughters, and burnings. 



48 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 



§ 16. Of the nature of the connexion between the under- 
standing and will. 

Presuming enough has been said, at least for the pres- 
ent, in support of the actual existence of the connexion 
we are inquiring into, we are now prepared to say some- 
thing of its nature. Although the connexion really exists, 
and is of very prominent importance, it is not meant to be 
said that it is a direct one. In other words, the Under- 
standing, whatever opinions may have formerly prevailed 
on the subject, is, in no case, in direct contact with the 
"Will. When, therefore, we speak of the operation of the 
intellect upon the will, we mean an indirect or circuitous 
operation ; that is to say, one which is carried on through 
the mediation of the sensibilities, under which term we 
include the various forms of emotion and desire, together 
with feelings of obligation. 

The appropriate and distinctive object of the Under- 
standing is knowledge. But we confidently venture the 
assertion, that knowledge alone has no tendency to con- 
trol volition. It is possible for a person in the exercise 
of his intellectual powers to possess unlimited knowledge, 
to explore and exhaust every field of inquiry ; and yet, if 
his knowledge be unattended with feeling, if it be follow- 
ed by no form of emotion or desire, or obligatory senti- 
ment, it will leave the Will perfectly indifferent and mo- 
tionless. Any other supposition is at variance mth every 
day's experience. 

A certain person, for example, comes to the conclusion, 
after a long train of reasoning, that the possession of a 
definite amount of property would be beneficial to himself 
and family. This conclusion is of course the result of a 



TO THE WILL. 49 

purely intellectual process. But if it be utterly passion- 
less ; if it be unattended ^^^th a single emotion or desire, 
it will altogether fail to arouse the will to activity or to 
secure a single effort. In the constitution of the human 
mind, everywhere so full of Avisdom and of mystery, the 
Sensibilities, which are as different from the will as from 
the understanding, are located between the two. They 
form the connecting link which binds them together. 
Strike out the sensibilities, therefore, and you necessarily 
excavate a gulf of separation between the intellect and 
the A\'ill, which is forever impassable. There is from that 
moment no medium of communication, no bond of union, 
no reciprocal action. 

§ 17. Of the opinions of Mr. Locke on this point. 

Here is one point, as those who are acquainted with 
the history of pliilosophical opinions ■v\'ill probably recol- 
lect, on which waiters on the Will have sometimes fallen 
into great error, viz., in placing the intellectual in juxtaposi- 
tion with the voluntary or volitive power, and supposing the 
latter to be under the direct operation of the former. 
Ml'. Locke himself seems to have been of this opinion at 
first, and to have published to the world his belief, that 
the understandino;, formino; an estimate of what is the 
greatest good, is the direct and immediate means of con- 
trolling the Will. But he afterward, on more mature 
examination, announced, with the honesty and love of 
truth for which he is so celebrated, his decided change 
of opinion. — " It seems, (says he,) so established and set- 
tled a maxim, by the general consent of all mankind, that 
good, the greater good, determines the will, that I do not 
at all wonder, that, when I first pubhshed my thoughts on 

E 



50 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

this subject, I took it for gi'anted ; and I imagine that by 
a gi-eat many I shall be thought more excusable for hav- 
ing done so, than that now I have ventured to recede from 
so received an opinion. But yet, upon a stricter inquiry, I 
am forced to conclude, that good, the greater good, 
though apprehended and acknowledged to he so, does not 
determine the will, imtil our desire, raised proportionably 
to it, makes us uneasy in the want of it. Con\dnce a 
man ever so much, that plenty has its advantages over 
poverty; make him see and own, that the handsome 
conveniences of life are better than nasty penury j yet, as 
long as he is content with the latter, and finds no imeasi- 
ness in it, he moves not ; his loill is never determined to 
any action that shall bring him out of it. Let a man be 
ever so well persuaded of the advantages of virtue, that 
it is as necessary to a man who has any great aims in this 
w^orld, or hopes in the next, as food to life ; yet, till he 
hungers and thirsts after righteousness, till he feels an 
uneasiness in the w'ant of it, his will wall not be deter- 
mined to any action in pursuit of this greater good." — • 
" For good," he says in another passage, " though appear- 
ing and allowed ever so great, yet till it has raised de- 
sires in our minds, and thereby made us uneasy in its 
want, reaches not our iinUs"* 

He was satisfied, on repeated examination and on the 
most mature reflection which he could give to the subject, 
that the mere intellectual conviction of what might tend 
to the greatest good, has no effect upon the Will, till it 
has first excited within us desires after that good. 

* Essay concerning the Human Understanding, book ii., ch. xxi., 
(f 35, 46. 



TO THE WILL. 51 



§ 18. Opinions of Sir James Mackintosh on the 
same subject. 

The same view is taken by other profound metaphysi- 
cians, so that, independently of its own obvious reasona- 
bleness, there is no want of authority in its favour. The 
following expressions of Sir James Mackintosh show 
Avhat were his own convictions on the subject. — " Through 
wdiatever length of reasoiiing the mind may pass in its 
advances tow^ards action, there is placed at the end of any 
avenue, through which it can advance, some principle 
wholly unlike mere reason, some emotion or sentim^ent 
which must be touched before the springs of will and 
action can be set in motion." 

And in another passage, a part of which follows, he 
maintains the assertions here made at considerable 
length. — " We can easily imagine a percipient and think- 
ing being ^^dthout a capacity of receiving pleasm-e or 
pain. Such a being might perceive w^hat we do ; if we 
could conceive him to reason, he might reason justly ; 
and if he were to judge at all, there seems no reason why 
he should not judge truly. But what could induce such 
a being to will or to act ? It seems evident that his ex- 
istence could only be a state of passive contemplation. 
Reason, as reason, can never he a motive to action. It is 
only when we superadd to such a being sensibility, or 
the capacity of emotion or sentiment, (or w^hat in corpo- 
real cases is called sensation,) of desire and aversion, 
that we introduce him into the w^orld of action. We 
then clearly discern, that, when the conclusion of a pro- 
cess of reasoning presents to his mind an object of de- 
sire, or the means of obtaining it, a motive of action 



52 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

begins to operate ; and reason may then, but not till then, 
have a powerful though indirect influence on conduct. 
Let any argument to dissuade a man from immorality be 
employed, and the issue of it will always appear to be 
an appeal to a feeling. You prove that drunkenness will 
probably ruin health. No position founded on experience 
is more certain. Most persons with whom you reason 
must be as much convinced of it as you are. But your 
hope of success depends on the drunkard's fear of ill 
health ; and he may always silence your argument by tell- 
ing you that he loves wine more than he dreads sickness. 
You speak in vain of the infamy of an act to one who 
disregards the opinion of others ; or of its imprudence to 
a man of httle feeling for his own future condition. You 
may truly, but vainly, tell of the pleasures of friendship 
to one who has little affection. If you display the de- 
lights of liberality to a miser, he may always shut your 
mouth by answering, ' the spendthrift may prefer such 
pleasure ; I love money more.' If you even appeal to a 
man's conscience, he may answer you, that you have 
clearly proved the immorality of the act, and that he 
himself knew it before ; but that now, when you had re- 
newed and freshened his conviction, he was obliged to 
own, that his love of virtue, even aided by the fear of 
dishonour, remorse, and punishment, was not so powerful 
as the desire which hurried him into vice."* — He con- 
cludes with remarking, that it is thus apparent that the 
influence of reason on the will is indirect, and arises only 
from its being one of the channels by which the objects 
of desire or aversion are brought near to these springs of 
voluntary action. 

* View of the Progress of Ethical Philosophy, section v. 



TO THE WILL. 63 



§ 19. The understanding reaches the vnll through 
the sensibilities. 

While, therefore, we may be assured that there is an 
estabhshed and fixed connexion between the understand- 
ing and the will, and that they are, by the constitution of 
oiu" nature, reciprocally indispensable to each other, this 
connexion is not to be regarded as direct and immediate ; 
but the understanding affects the will through the me- 
dium of the Sensibilities. The direct connexion, there- 
fore, of the understanding is with the sensibilities ; and 
vnih that portion of them which are appropriately, and by 
way of distinction from the other sentient states of the 
mind, termed the Emotions. It is true, there is no resem- 
blance between an emotion and a mere perception or 
thought ; in their nature they are entirely different firom 
each other. "An emotion of pleasure or pain," in the 
language of Mackintosh, " differs much more from a mere 
perception, than the perceptions of one sense do from 
those of another. The perceptions of all the senses have 
some qualities in common. But an emotion has not ne- 
cessarily anything in common with a perception, but that 
they are both states of the mind." 

But these two classes of mental states, although they 
differ so entirely in their nature, are placed in juxtaposi- 
tion to each other ; by which we mean, that one is immedi- 
ately successive to the other, or, in other words, that they 
hold the relation of antecedence and sequence. And it 
is here that the understanding makes its approaches upon 
the voluntary power, and contributes to its being called 
into action, as ^\all be seen more distinctly in some remarks 
of the following chapter. 

E2 



54 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 



§ 20. The acts of the intellect the direct antecedents 
to emotions. 

Let us delay here a moment, and notice that marked 
and interesting fact in our mental economy, that knowl- 
edge is the foundation of emotion. All the knowledge 
which men have, w^ith the exception of the mere relations 
of things, has reference either to matter or mind ; to the 
outward and external, or to the invisible and spiritual 
world. But in both its great forms, and under whatever 
possible aspect it may exist, we find it to be attended with 
emotion. No man walks the earth, and contemplates its 
variegated features, its mingled yet harmonizing exhibi- 
tions of wood and water, of hill and vale, and tree and 
flower, and sun and cloud, without experiencing the origin 
of a feeling within him additional to the mere perception 
of these objects. There is a gush of pleasure, a flow of 
emotive sensibility, which is better known by the experi- 
ence than by any description. The emotion, how^ever, 
is not always of the same kind. There are times and 
places where nature puts on her more aw^ful and frown- 
ing aspects, where she appears in storm and power and 
gloom. And then the emotion ascends from the merely 
beautiful to the grand and sublime. 

And there are also other objects of knowledge than 
mere natural objects ; all the various and wonderful attri- 
butes of mind ; the patience and the fortitude, and the 
joy and the sorrow, and the magnanimity, and the crime, 
and the justice, which diversify the history of the human 
race. The knowledge of these, too, (for everything is 
dormant until the intellect has put itself in exercise and 
has explored the objects which come within its sphere,) 



10 THE WILL. 55 

arouses the Sensibility, and calls forth the strongest emo- 
tions ; not only emotions of the beautiful and sublime, of 
joy and sorrow, but of approval and disapproval, accord- 
ing to the nature and character of the thing which is pre- 
sented before us. 

§ 21. Emotions change vnth changes in the intellectual 
perceptions. 

We may not only lay down the general truth, that 
emotions depend for their existence on the antecedent 
acts of the intellect, but also that the character of the 
emotion will vary as a general thing, wdth changes in the 
intellectual perceptions. We have already noticed this 
fact in the volume on the Sensibilities ; but it seems to be 
necessary, in order to have a precise and full view of the 
doctrine of the Will, to recur to it again. Accordingly, 
we proceed to say here, that all objects become more or 
less interesting to us, more or less radiant in the view of 
the mental perception, in proportion as we know more or 
less about them. That scenery of nature, which seemed 
to us exceedingly beautiful at first, w^ill at once ^appear 
less so on the discovery of some new object,- which is 
judged by us discordant with its general character. That 
exquisite picture, which charms us at. the first glance, Avill 
excite still stronger emotions of pleasm'e, when we ex- 
amine it carefully in all its parts, and discover new sources 
of beauty. That man of riches, who beholds his grana- 
ries and coffers with so much joy, when he sits down to 
reason coolly upon the true value of the wealth he pos- 
sesses ; when he considers that it will corrupt the morals 
and prove the destruction of his children, and that, in con- 
nexion wath the means of its acquisition, it will arouse the 



56 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

endless upbraidings of his own conscience, will be like- 
ly to find tiie feeling of joy withering within him, and 
those of sorrow and remorse taking its place. How many 
cases there are of moral conduct, which, on first being 
made known to us, have called forth the most decisive ap- 
probation ; but which, on a further examination of the 
motives of the actors, have changed their character, and 
lost all their moral glory ! How many friends have glad- 
dened us by their countenance, which seemed to beam with 
a heavenly excellence, but have afterward filled us with 
loathing and abhorrence, when we have found that their 
pretended friendship was merely assumed to cloak their 
private views and to cany their selfish ends ! 

And thus it is with all objects of knowledge, as they 
become more fully explored either in themselves or in 
their relations. According as they change then- aspect 
imder the inspection of the intellect, they are invested 
with a new character from the emotions. But if all 
emotion depends essentially upon intellect, and all change 
of emotion depends essentially upon change of intellect, 
we shall hereafter have occasion to see, even more fully 
than has yet been pointed out, how close and indispen- 
sable the bond is which unites the intellectual to the 
voluntary power. 

§ 22. The powers of the will not perfectly correspondent 
to those of the Intellect. 

But, although the Intellect thus lays the original found- 
ation of the acts of the Will, we are not necessarily to 
infer, that there is an exact correspondence and proportion 
between them. In other words, we are not to infer, that 
the vigour of the will is always in exact proportion to 



TO THE WILL. 67 

the expansion and \dgour of the intellect. It was a sa- 
gacious remark of the distinguished painter Fuseh, which 
we venture to assert a careful observation will fully con- 
firm, that nature does not always "^proportion the ivill to 
our powers /" meaning by the last expression our percep- 
tive or intellective powers. " It sometimes," he adds, 
" assigns a copious proportion of will to minds, whose 
faculties are very contracted, and frequently associates 
with the greatest faculties a will feeble and impotent."* — 
The Will appears to require, as the basis of its action in 
any given case, only a certain sphere of knowledge ; and 
any amount of knowledge beyond that sphere will not 
necessarily affect the energy of the volitive action either 
one way or the other. Some instances will explain more 
clearly what we mean. 

In Dr. Goldsmith, so justly celebrated for his various 
literary productions, we may notice no inconsiderable 
grasp of Intellect, combined with a will not fully propor- 
tioned to it. Distinguished as a poet, a comic writer, and a 
novelist, his conduct through life was marked with an ex- 
ceeding infirmity of purpose. With a perfect understand- 
ing of the impositions of which he was made the subject, 
he still had not promptness and decision enough to coun- 
teract them. His biographer asserts, that he could not 
give a refusal ; and being thus cheated with his eyes 
open, no man could be a surer and easier dupe to the im- 
postors, whose arts he could so well describe.f 

May we not also adduce the mental traits of a man still 
more distinguished 1 The intellect of Sir Isaac Newton 
seemed capacious enough to embrace the whole circle of 
knowledge j nothing among men could well exceed the 

* Cunningham's Lives of Painters, art. Fuseli. 
t Scott's Lives of the Novelists, art. Goldsmith. 



58 RELATION OF THE INTELLECT 

grasp of his understanding ; but, if we carefully compare 
the statements given by his biographers, we shall probably 
je convinced, that there was not a perfect correspondence 
md proportion between his intellectual and his voluntary 
oower ; that he often, exhibited no small infirmity and in- 
decision of purpose ; a gigantic strength of thought, mu- 
ted with a childlike uncertainty and flexibility of action. 
After he had completed his great work, the Principia, and 
had placed the new philosophical creed on an immovable 
basis, we are told he was unwilling to give it to the world, 
probably through fear of the controversies it might occa- 
sion, and that he was induced to do so through the urgent 
importunity of some of his intimate friends.* — In the 
case of Newton, however, it may not be necessary to as- 
sei-t positively, as in that of Goldsmith and many others, 
that there was a natural deficiency or weakness of the 
will, since we are at liberty to attempt another explana- 
tion. The Will, like the other mental powers, strengthens 
by exercise, and grows languid and weak by disuse. But 
this great philosopher was almost constantly employed in 
inquiries beyond the ordinary sphere of the world's 
motives and actions ; and as he consequently had but 
little occasion for calling the voluntary power into exer- 
cise, we may well suppose that it lost in some degree its 
natural "vigour. 

§ 23. An energetic will sometimes found in connexion 
vnth limited powers of intellect. 

And if, on the one hand, a gi*eat grasp of intellect is 
not always attended with a voluntary energy correspond- 

* Brewster's Life of Newton, chap. xi. — Cumberland's Memoirs, p. 9. 
— D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii., p. 165. 



TO THE WILL. 69 

ing to it, we find, on the other, that inferiority of intellect 
(we do not speak now of extreme cases, but of such as 
are of every day's occuiTence) is not necessarily accom- 
panied with diminished power of the Will. The sphere 
of the ^vill's action is of course diminished in such in- 
stances ; but it is possible for it to exhibit great vigour 
within that limited sphere. It has but a small field to 
work in, (not an empire, but a small enclosure which a 
man can cast his eye over,) but it does its duty faithfully, 
promptly, and sternly in the restricted limits allotted it. 

It has been remarked of the renowned Marshal Ney, 
that he was scarcely capable of putting two ideas togeth- 
er. Although this is an exaggeration, it is very certain 
that his great celebrity does not rest upon his comprehen- 
sive views and powers of reasoning, but almost solely on 
his sm'prising promptness and resolution in action; in 
other words, on the promptness and force of the will. 
And it is well known that the Emperor Napoleon was ac- 
customed to speak of some of his generals, (Murat, as weU 
as Ney, was an instance,) as men of limited intellect but 
of great energy ; as weak and microscopic, if we may be 
allowed the expressions, in all matters of perceptivity and 
reflection, but great and terrible in their volition. — ^But it 
vnW be necessary to resume this subject again. All that 
we wdsh to say now is, that, although there is a connexion 
between the imderstanding and the will, and the one is 
the basis of the life and activity of the other, there is not 
a perfect correspondence between the two ; and that the 
mere power and activity of the one, since there are other 
thinsfs to be taken into consideration, does not furnish a 
perfect measure of the ability and promptness of the other- 



60 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 



CHAPTER m. 

RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES TO THE WILL. 

§ 24. General statement in explanation of the term 
sensibilities. 

Haying proceeded thus far, in considering the relation 
which the Understanding sustains to the Will, we advance 
a step further into the interior of the mental nature, and 
consider more particularly the relation which the Sensibil- 
ities sustain to it. We have already had occasion to re- 
mark, that the doctrine formerly prevalent of the Will's 
being controlled by the last dictate of the Understanding 
is mitenable, and that the Understanding is in no case in 
direct contact with the voluntary power. As to any direct 
and immediate connexion, we have no hesitancy in say- 
ing, that they are entirely separated from each other. 
The space between them, however, is not left vacant, but 
is occupied by another portion of the mind of the greatest 
interest and importance, viz., its sentient or sensitive states. 
It is this portion of the mind, and not the percipient or 
intellective, which sustains a direct connexion with the 
Will. But, before attempting to illustrate the nature of 
this connexion, it is necessary to state in a few words, 
although at the expense of some repetition, what is prop- 
erly included under the term Sensibilities. 

It may be said in general terms, without professing to 
be specific and exact, that everything is to be included 
under the word Sensibilities which properly and truly im- 



TO THE WILL. 61 

i^Yies feeling. We suppose, moreover, that, the term Sen- 
sibihties may be regarded, in its general and indefinite 
sense, as meaning essentially the same zs, the word heaet 
does, in those nmnerous passages of English writers, some 
of which have already been quoted, where the heart is 
spoken of in distinction from the head or the understand- 
ing. When we say of an individual, that he has a vigor- 
ous intellect but a perverted heart, or, on the other hand, 
characterize him as possessed of a just and generous heart 
in combination with a weak intellect, we not only have a 
meaning, but we rightly count on such expressions being 
easily and readily apprehended. We never mistake. 
We not only know that a part of oiu' spiritual nature is 
meant, but we know what that part is. We say, there- 
fore, in general terms, that we employ the word Sensibil- 
ities as meaning essentially the same with the word heart. 
But this statement of what is meant by the term in ques- 
tion, it must be admitted, is so general and indefinite, that 
it seems necessary to designate more pai'ticularly what is 
included imder it. 

§ 25. Of what are strictly included under the sensibilities. 

It is true, that the general nature of the Sensibilities, 
including the subordinate divisions and the relations of 
those divisions, has been explained at some length in the 
volume on that subject. But as we approach the termi- 
nation of our inquiries, and come nearer to that Depart- 
ment, to which is assigned the high office, not only of a 
general control of the mental action, but of realizing and 
sustaining the mind's unity, so that we can truly speak of 
ourselves as one mind or as one person, it seems neces- 
sary, in order to a full and clear understanding of our 

F 



62 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

position, to take a concise view of the other parts of the 
mind, and to point out their relations to that which is be- 
fore us. This, therefore, so far as it has not been done in 
the remarks aheady made, we proceed now to do. Ac- 
cordingly, we proceed to remark, that the states of mind 
coming under the general head of the Sensibilities may be 
arranged under the three subordinate classes of Emotions, 
Desires, and feelings of Obligation ; including under the 
class of the Desires certain complex states of mind, of 
which desire makes a prominent part, such as the appe-' 
TiTES, propensities, and affections. 

I. Emotions. — These feelings are very various in kind, 
such as the emotions of cheerfulness and joy, of melan- 
choly and sorrow, of surprise, astonishment, and wonder; 
the emotions of beauty, grandeur, and sublimity; the 
emotions of the ludicrous, and the emotions of approval 
and disapproval. As the emotions are simple states of 
the mind, it would be of no avail to attempt to define 
them ; but the knowledge of them must be left to the tes- 
timony of each one's consciousness. But it is to be pre- 
sumed, that no one is ignorant of what is meant when we 
speak of cheerfulness, of wonder, of melancholy, of beau- 
ty'', grandeur, and the like. 

II. The Desires. — Originating in the Natural in dis- 
tinction from the Moral emotions, we have also the sub- 
ordinate class of Desires included under the general head 
of the Sentient states of the mind or the Sensibilities. 
The knowledge of the Desires as well as of the Emotions, 
must be had chiefly from consciousness. No mere form 
of words can illustrate their nature as distinguished from 
that of emotions, independently of that internal experience 
which is implied in an act of consciousness. There are, 
howevei', some accessory or incidental circumstances 



TO THE WILL. ' 63 

which are in some degree characteristic of them, and 
which have been enumerated in the volume on the Sensi- 
bihties. For instance, the circumstance that emotions 
are generally evanescent, while there is a greater fixed- 
ness and permanency in the desires. — Under the class of 
Desires may be included, as has already been stated, the 
APPETITES, such as himger and thirst; the propensities, 
such as curiosity or the desire of knowledge, the innate 
desire of esteem, the principle of imitation, sociality or 
the desire of society, ambition or the desire of power, and 
the like; and the affections, both the malevolent and 
those of a beneficent tendency 

in. Feelings of Obligation. — To these may also be 
added, as belonging to and as forming a distinct portion 
of the Sensitive constitution, the feelings of Obligation, 
originating, in contrast with the desires, in the Moral in 
distinction from the Natural emotions. It would be in- 
consistent with the plan which we propose to pursue, to 
go very fully into the nature of Obligative or Obligatory 
sentiments. The difference existing between them and 
the Desires, will probably be obvious to every one on 
even a slight internal examination. Nor is there, in gen- 
eral, any danger of their being confounded with the Emo- 
tions, excepting those which are also of a moral nature, 
viz., of approval and disapproval. But here also the dis- 
tinction is not an imperfect or obscure one. The emotions 
of approval and disapproval have reference to the charac- 
ter of objects and actions that are either past or present ; 
to things that have existed in time past, or that have an 
actual existence at the present time, or are conceived to 
exist at the present time. The states of mind, on the 
contrary, which involve obligation and duty, have refer- 
ence to the future; to something which is either to be 



64 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

performed or the performance of which is to be avoided. 
They bind us entirely to what is to come. — ^There is also 
this additional ground of distinction between the two, 
that the feelings of obligation are always subsequent in 
point of time to the approving or disapproving emotions, 
and cannot possibly exist unless preceded by them. Ac- 
cordingly, it is a common thing for a person to say, that 
he feels no moral obhgation to do a thing, because he 
does not approve it, or, on the contrary, that, approving 
any proposed course, he feels under obligation to pursue 
it; language, which midoubtedly means something, and 
which implies a distinction between the mere moral emo- 
tion and the feeling of obligation ; and which tendt to 
prove the prevalence of the common belief, that the feel- 
ing of obligation is subsequent to, and dependant on that 
of approval or disapproval. These statements, though 
necessarily brief, will help to show what are strictly in- 
cluded under the term sensibilities. 

§ 26. Acts of the intellect in immediate proximity vnth 
emotions. 

In considering those states of mind which are termed 
SENTIENT or SENSiTH^E, in distinction from the intellective, 
we have to remark further, that of the various classes of 
feeling named in the preceding section, the Emotions 
come first in order. That is to say, in proceeding from 
the Intellect to the Will through the Sensibilities, which 
is obviously the road that nature has laid out and estab- 
lished to the exclusion of every other, we find the intel- 
lections in contact, or, more properly speaking, in imme- 
diate proximity, with the emotions. The first step taken 
from the understanding to the heart is into the region of 



TO THE WILL. 65 

the Emotions, and not into that of the Desires, or of the 
feeUngs of Obhgation. 

And here it is proper again to observe, as we had oc- 
casion to notice in the preceding chapter, that the original 
and sole foundation of emotions is knowledge, which im- 
plies, of com-se, the action of the intellect. This is an ulti- 
mate fact in om" constitution, which therefore we cannot 
resolve into anything else. Whenever an object of 
knowledge is presented before us, of whatever kind, we 
are so constituted that w^e necessarily have a correspond- 
ent emotion, either pleasing or displeasing; though in 
many cases, it must be acknowledged, the emotion is so 
very slight as to give the object the appearance of being 
perfectly indifferent. And even if we should admit that 
there may be some objects of knowledge (or, in other 
words, some intellectual perceptions, which amounts to 
the same thing) that are perfectly indifferent, being 
wholly unattended with emotions, it will still remain true, 
on the other hand, that there can be no emotions without 
some object of knowledge, without some preceding intel- 
lectuai act. The natural progress of the mind, therefore, 
in bringing the Will into action, is from intellections to 
emotions. 

Fm-thermore, whenever there is a clear and just per- 
ception of an object, the corresponding emotion will not 
only necessarily arise, but there will generally be an entire 
correspondence between the two. That is to say, the 
emotion will be the true and precise measure of the natu- 
ral and moral beauty of objects, and of their deformity, 
and the true measure of all other qualities which are fitted 
to excite emotions. We say, where there is a clear and 
just perception, for it is undeniable that the perception is 
often perplexed and clouded by inexcusable carelessness, 
F 2 



66 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

by inordinate passion, by strong casual associations, and 
for other reasons ; and that, in consequence of this, the 
correspondence which ought to exist between the emo- 
tion and the true nature of the object before the mind 
frequently fails. But in all those cases where there is 
no erroneous and unnatural influence operating on the 
understanding, we may reasonably expect to find a due 
adaptation and harmony between these two parts of our 
nature. 

§ 27. Emotions not in proximity with volitions. 

Acts of the understanding or intellections are, by tnv. 
constitution of our nature, antecedent to emotions. But 
v/hile it is thus obvious that emotions stand between in- 
tellections and volitions we are not to suppose that Emo- 
tions, although they are one step nearer the Will than the 
mere acts of the Understanding, are in direct contact with 
it, or have of themselves alone any power over it. It 
may be asserted with pei-fect confidence, if we had these 
feelings alone, the Will would never be brought into 
action. They have no more natural tendency to cause 
volition than mere thought, than the most imimpassioned 
and abstract speculations of the intellect. 

Let us take some illustration. A person contemplates 
some picture of excellent workmanship, which appears to 
him beautiful or sublime, and excites within him emotions 
of that character ; but the existence of these emotions 
•merely never calls forth any act of volition. He stands, 
and gazes, and the tide of emotion swells in upon him, 
and he is overwhelmed with it. But while this portion 
of his Sensibilities alone is awakened and called into ex- 
ercise he will remain as inactive as if he had been 



TO THE WILL. 67 

formed of intellect merely. He will take no measures to 
possess the painting, or to do anything else in respect to 
it, until he is under the influence of another portion of the 
Sensibilities entii-ely distinct from emotions. 

§ 28. Emotions followed hy desires and feelings of 
obligation. 

We behold here the admirable economy of the mind, a 
decisive and striking proof of that wisdom which per- 
vades its wonderful structure. Intellectual perceptions lay 
the foundation of emotions, and if these last cannot reach 
and influence the higher and more authoritative power of 
the Will, it is so ordered in the mental constitution, that 
they lay the foundation of other mental states, which can. 
The classes of feelings, of which the emotions may be 
regarded, as the basis, appear to be two in number, name- 
ly, the Desires, founded on the various Natural emotions, 
or those which give pleasure or pain ; and Feelings of 
obligation, founded on the Moral emotions, viz., of ap- 
proval and disapproval. 

§ 29. Desires in "proximity with the vnll. 

And, in the first place, a word or two may be said on 
the position and relations of the Desires. It has been 
seen, that intellections are not in direct connexion "svith 
the Desires, but that Emotions intervene. The acts of 
the understanding alone can never raise a single desire. 
In no case whatever does a man assert his desire of a 
thing, unless he is pleased with it either in itself, or in its 
relations and applications. But if there be no desire 
without the intervention of some emotion, then it is evi- 



68 EELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

dent that the mere knowledge of the thing, towards 
which the desire is directed, is not sufficient to excite it ; 
but, on the contrary, without something more than the 
mere acts of the understanding, it could never exist. 
The process of the mind, therefore, is from intellections 
to emotions, and from emotions to desires. The intel- 
lectual perceptions lay the foundation for the various 
emotions both pleasant and painful ; and the desires are 
attendant upon these. We desire a house and its furni- 
tm'e ; we desire a picture or a statue, or other objects of 
convenience, utility, and beauty ; because they excite 
emotions and give us pleasure, but not otherwise. 

And if we are here asked why the emotions should 
lay the foundation of desires, we can only say, (as also in 
respect to the general fact that intellections lay the found- 
ation of emotions,) it is the constitution of our nature. 
The same creative power that requires emotions to follow 
the perceptions of the understanding, has instituted the 
succession of the desires to emotions. And it is in Desires 
that we find a class of immediate antecedents to the acts 
of the Will. They present to it a powerful motive. 
They fiirnish to it one of its broadest grounds of action. 

§ 30. Obligatory feelings also in proximity vnth the 
tvill. 

We may also approach the Will in another direction. 
The class of mental states, which are termed emotions, 
are followed not merely by Desires, but also by another 
class, distinct from Desires, and yet sustaining the same re- 
lation of proximity to the will, which, for want of a single 
term, we have been obliged to denominate Feelings of ob- 
ligation. Desires are founded on the Natural emotions, 



TO THE WILL. 69 

or those which involve what is pleasurable or painfiil, 
while Obligatory feelings are exclusively based on emo- 
tions of a different kind, viz., Moral emotions, or emotions 
of moral approval and disapproval. The Obligative 
states of mind, although they are easily distinguished by 
our consciousness from Desires or the Desirive states of 
mind, agree with the latter in being in direct contact with 
the voluntary power, and not unfrequently these two 
classes of mental states stand before the Will in direct 
and fierce opposition to each other. 

We are aware that the representation has sometimes 
been given by writers, that the moral emotions of ap- 
proval and disapproval are in direct proximity with the 
Will, and exert a direct control over it. But this is not 
true of any emotions whatever, those of approval and dis- 
approval as w^ell as others. They all stop short of the Will, 
and require the intervention of some other state of the 
mind. We put forth emotions in approval or disapproval 
of a certain action or of a certain course of conduct, but 
they vnll never lead us to exert any effort of our own 
until they are followed by the distinct feelings of obhga- 
tion. Hence the common remark, that we feel an obliga- 
tion to pursue a certain course, because we approve it ; 
which implies, that, while the feehng of approval is the 
antecedent to that of obligation, the latter or obligative 
feeling is the direct and effective antecedent to volition. 
A view of this portion of the mind, which, we are per- 
suaded, will bear the strictest internal examination, and 
will not fail to be foimd true. 



70 RELATION OF THE SElNSlfilLi'iiES 



§ 31. Further remarks and illustrations on this subject. 

We are now able, looking at the mind in its great out- 
lines, to understand the precise relation which its promi- 
nent parts hold to the Will. Volition is the great result, 
to which they all, in their appropriate position, contribute ; 
and with which they all, therefore, sustain an established 
connexion, though not with the same degree of nearness. 

The Sensibilities, which intervene between the Under- 
standing and the Will, divide themselves, as was seen 
more particularly in the volume on that subject, into two 
great portions, the Natural on the one hand, and the 
Moral on the other. Fm'thermore, in accordance with 
this view, they approach and reach the Will, as we have 
just seen, in different directions and in different forms of 
feeling, viz., in the form of Desires or Desirive states of 
mind on the one side, and in the form of Obligations or 
Obligative states of mind on the other. They furnish, 
therefore, a basis for the operations of the Will, sufficient- 
ly extensive not only for the purposes of action, but of 
accountability. 

We accordingly see, that, in the exercise of volition, 
men are not shut up to one form of action ; but are ena- 
bled and required, in all cases w^here such a distinction 
actually exists, to discriminate between the utile and the 
HONESTUM, between the desirable and the just, between 
what is merely profitable or prudential, and what is vir- 
tuous. And it is undoubtedly important that these views 
should be borne in mind, for they have a direct and close 
bearing upon man's accomitability, and also upon the 
question of his freedom. And a due degree of attention 
should be given to all considerations which have a ten- 
dency to settle these interesting questions. 



TO THE WILL. 71 



§ 32. Opinions of mcta'physical loriters on thejvre- 
going statements. 

The doctrines, thus far advanced in this chapter, find 
support, in their essential and most important respects, in 
various writers. It is true that the distinction between 
desires and feelings of obligation has not been so clearly- 
drawn and so much insisted on as it should be, although 
almost all writers, either more formally or incidentally, 
seem to acknowledge that the moral nature presents 
direct and powerful motives to the will, as well as those 
parts of our constitution which involve mere pleasm'e and 
desire. In respect to the relation sustained by desires.to 
the will, there is more explicitness. Mr. Locke, in par- 
ticular, repeatedly and clearly asserts their proximity to 
volition. He does indeed say, that uneasiness determines 
the ^^^ll, (§ 31 of the Chapter on Power,) but we need not 
mistake how this is to be interpreted, when we remem- 
ber he expressly adds, besides giving his reasons for the 
remark, " this uneasiness we may call, as it is, Desire." 

And in accordance vv^ith this, we find him remarking 
as follows, in a subsequent section of the same chapter : 
" I have hitherto chiefly instanced in the uneasiness of 
desire, as that which determines the will, because that is 
the chief and most sensible, and the will seldom orders 
any action, nor is there any voluntary action performed, 
without some desire accompanying it ; which, I think, is 
the reason why the will and desire are so often confound- 
ed. But yet we are not to look upon the uneasiness 
which makes up, or at least accompanies most of the other 
passions, as wholly excluded in the case. Aversion, fear, 
anger, envy, shame, &c., have each their uneasiness too, 



72 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

and thereby influence the will. These passions are scarce 
any of them in Hfe and practice simple and alone, and 
wholly mmiixed with others ; though usually in discourse 
and contemplation, that carries the name which operates 
strongest, and appears most in the present state of the 
mind : nay, there is, I think, scarce any of the passions to 
be found without desire joined with it. I am sure, where- 
ever there is uneasiness, there is desire ; for we constantly 
desire happiness ; and whatever we feel of uneasiness, so 
much it is certain we want of happiness, even m our own 
opinion, let our state and condition otherwise be what it 
will. Besides, the present moment not being om' eternity, 
whatever om- enjoyment be, we look beyond the present, 
and desire goes v\dth our foresight, and that still carries 
the vnll with it. So that even in joy itself, that which 
keeps up the action, whereon the enjoyment depends, is 
the desire to continue it, and fear to lose it : and when- 
ever a greater uneasiness than that takes place in the 
mind, the will presently is by that determined to some 
new action, and the present delight neglected."* 

§ 33. Of the strength of the desires. 

While we are upon this part of the general subject, we 
may properly remark, as it may be found to have some 
connexion with what v^dll be said hereafter, on the 
strength of the desires. The intensity of the desires, and 
also of the emotions on which they are founded, will not 
unfrequently vary in diiferent individuals, even when they 
are acting together in reference to the same object, and 
nearly under the same circumstances. — The cause of this 
variation may be found, in the first place, in the Intellect 

* Essay concerning Human Tlnderstanding. book ii., ch. xxi., (} 39. 



TO THE WILL. 73 

or Understanding. The relation existing between tlie 
understanding and the sensibilities has already been, in 
some measure, explained. And those explanations will 
throw a ready and clear light upon the present topic. 
We are so constituted, as it would seem from the remarks 
now referred to, that the emotions we have, whether 
pleasant or painful, will vary, as a general thing, with 
our knowledge. If we happen on some occasion to be 
pleased with any natural or artificial object, we shall find 
that the pleasurable emotion will be increased or dimin- 
ished by om- further knowledge, either of its excellences 
or its defects. And as the natural progress of the mind 
is from the emotions to the desires, it will also happen 
that the strength of the desires will vary in accordance 
with the variation in the intensity of the emotions. 

We will illustrate this by a single instance. We may 
assume, (and, indeed, have abundant reason to believe it 
to be the fact,) that the celebrated Clarkson, who was 
the instriunent of effecting so much for suffering Africa, 
was naturally a person of a kindly and amiable disposi- 
tion, and easily moved by exhibitions of human wo. But 
how did it happen, that this individual felt and effected 
so much in opposition to the Slave Trade, while others of 
equal amiability neither felt nor acted 1 The explanation 
is an easy one, and it thi'ows light upon the operations of 
the human mind. In the year 1785, the vice-chancellor 
of the University of Cambridge, with which Mr. Clarkson 
was at that time connected, gave out as the subject of a 
prize essay, " Anne liceat invitos in servitutem dare ? Is 
it right to enslave others ao;ainst their will V He -wrote 
upon this subject, and gained the prize. And it was the 
knowledge w^hich he acquired in writing this Essay that 
affected his heart; he became acquainted with facts 

G 



74 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

which were before unknown to him, and his sensibilities 
were moved ; he knew, and then he felt ; he wept :-ver 
the mass of human suffering that was displayed before 
him, not because he was actually of a more benevolen' 
disposition than he was the year before, or of a more be- 
nevolent temperament than a hundred others in Great 
Britain, but because he had become acquainted with it. 
And when he had known, and w^hen he had felt new de- 
sires and new feelings of obligation enkindling within 
him, he saw there was nothing remaining for him but to 
will and to do, to resolve and to act. And from that 
time he devoted his useful life to Africa. 

(2.) But it is necessary to add, that the mere amount 
of knowledge does not seem sufficient of itself to explain 
fully the differences of sensibility which we notice in dif- 
ferent persons. Whatever may have sometimes been 
said to the contrary, there can hardly be a doubt, that the 
minds of men, though compacted of the same essential 
elements, differ from each other in the modification and 
exlribition of those elements, as much as the general form 
of their bodies and their looks differ. And if we find 
that there is a constitutional difference in the powers of 
perception, memory, reasoning, and the like, we may ex- 
pect to find that there is naturally and constitutionally a 
greater quickness and strength of emotions and of conse- 
quent desires in some than in others. And this is con- 
firmed by constant observation. It would certainly be 
deemed a very reasonable assertion, and fully confirmed 
by the whole course of his life, that the benevolent How- 
ard was possessed of greater quickness and power of 
sensibility than many others. We do not mean to say 
that all he did was owing solely to the natural quickness 
of his sensibilities. It was undoubtedly the fact, that the 



TO THE WILL. 75 

food wliich he furnished to the understanding nourished 
the sensibihties also; but it was equally true, that the 
sensibilities were naturally and strongly predisposed to 
receive such nouiishment. 

If these view^s be correct, then in endeavouring to in- 
fluence a person to pursue a certain course of conduct, 
w^e must consider not only the character and value of the 
object which is presented before him, but the tempera- 
ment of the man. The object that will bring one prompt- 
ly into action, may approach heavily and weakly the more 
sluggish and indurated heart of another. 

§ 34. Of the strength of feelings of ohligation. 

Essentially the same views will apply to feelings of 
Obligation. Like the desires, their degree of strength 
will vary, in the first place, with the amount of knowl- 
edge. In other words, the more fully and completely we 
understand a moral action in itself and in its relations, the 
stronger, we may reasonably expect, will be our feelings 
of approval or disapproval. But it has been seen, that 
the mere feelings of approval and disapproval never of 
themselves excite the Will, and lead us to action. They 
must be followed by Obligative states of mind or feelings 
of Obligation ; and the strength of these last will corre- 
spond very nearly with that of the antecedent moral emo- 
tions. If the emotions be strong, and there is an opening 
in the matter for any personal action, the feelings of obli- 
gation, which necessarily follow them, will be proportion- 
ately strong. 

But here also, as in the case of the desires, there may 
be a constitutional difference in individuals. As some 
persons appear to inherit from nature a quicker sensibility 



76 RELATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 

to the beauty or deformity of natui-al objects than others, 
so in regard to things of a moral character, the emotions 
of some persons are found to be faint, while those of 
others, though there is precisely the same amount of 
knowledge in both cases, are distinct and vivid. And if 
nature may thus lay a foundation for a difference in the 
emotions, it necessarily lays a foundation for a difference 
in those feelings of obligation, of which moral emotions 
are the basis. Did not nature do more for the moral con- 
stitution of Aristides than for that of Alcibiades 1 And 
was Regulus, who sacrificed his life to preserve his 
honour, on an equality in this respect with Caesar, who 
sacrificed both liis honour and his country to his ambition 7 

§ 35. Of the influence of the sensibilities on the under, 
standing. 

Before quitting the subject of the relations sustained by 
the sensibilities, we have a remark further to make. The 
sensibilities have not only an influence onward, that is to 
say, upon the Will, but backward upon the Understand- 
ing. The power of the heart over the intellect has been 
often noticed by theological writers; nor can it have 
escaped the knowledge of any one, who has made the 
opinions and conduct of men a subject of careful obser- 
vation. It is not unfrequently the case, that we anticipate, 
with a great degree of confidence, the decisions of a 
person on a purely speculative subject, from a knowledge 
of his desires, prejudices, and predominant passions. But 
the fact is so obvious and so generally acknowledged, 
that we have nothing to do but to say something in ex- 
planation of it. 

In the first place, a knowledge of the constitution of 



TO THE WILL. 77 

the human mind would lead us to expect, that the action 
of the intellect will not be free and unembarrassed when 
the sensibilities are in a state of great excitement. It has 
been made sufficiently clear, in this and the preceding 
chapters, that the tendency of the mind, in its great de- 
partments of the COGNITIVE, SENSITIVE, and VOLUNTARY, is 
towards consecutive rather than simultaneous action ; that 
its acts follow each other in a certain order in time ; that 
there is no feelino- without antecedent coo;nition, and no 
voluntary or volitive action without the antecedent action 
of the sensibilities. A simultaneous action, therefore, of 
the intellect and of the sensibilities, in an equal degree, 
seems to be inconsistent with those general principles of 
movement, which pervade the mental constitution. Ac- 
cordingly, when the intellect is at the highest point of 
action, the passions will be likely, at the precise moment 
of such high intellective or cognitive action, to be quieted 
and subordinate ; and when, on the other hand, the pas- 
sions are highly excited, the operations of the intellect 
will be perplexed, and will probably be feeble and ob- 
scure. Hence it is, that every man, when he is about 
entering upon an investigation of an abstract and diffi- 
cult nature, is desirous of freeing himself from the dis- 
turbing forces of the heart, and of commencing his task 
with perfect coolness. 

(2.) But there is another point of view in which this 
subject may be contemplated. It is not merely of the 
occasional predominance of the passions that the intellect 
may complain ; there is often a secret influence of the 
sensibilities, which attracts less notice, but is hardly less 
powerful ; which does not absolutely interrupt the exer- 
cise of the understanding, but perverts it. For instance, 
we often find it difficult to form a correct judgment, where 
G2 



78 VOLITIONS, OB 

our own personal interests are concerned, or those of our 
family or political party. Our love has woven itself so 
closely around those partial interests, that even the keen 
eye of the understanding can scarcely penetrate its folds. 
And when it does, it beholds everything under a false 
medium ; all that is excellent, magnified and made prom- 
inent; and all that is evil, diminished and kept out of 
sight. And what love has done for our own interests, 
jealousy and ill will and hatred have done for interests 
adverse to our own. These last, as well as the more 
amiable passions, hinder the approach of the searchings 
of the intellect ; and when this is no longer possible, they 
distort the objects of its examination. 



CHAPTER IV. 

VOLITIONS, OR VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 

§ 36. The necessity of that controlling power which 
exists in the vnll. 

In the remarks hitherto made, although enough has 
been said to evince clearly the distinct existence of the 
Will, very little has been said in illustration of its appro- 
priate nature. This will now be made a distinct subject 
of consideration. But, before entering directly upon its 
examination, we take this opportunity to say something 
of the great necessity of that regulative and controlling 
power, of which the "\vill is justly deemed to be the 
depository. 

Destitute of the power of wilhng, is it not evident that 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 79 

man would be an inefficient and useless being 1 He would 
indeed be possessed of the Intellect and the Sensibilities ; 
but it is well understood, and has already been remarked 
in respect to the intellect, that the value of these depends, 
in a great degree, upon action ', in other words, upon the 
practical results to which they lead. But the doctrine, 
that man can bring himself into action, without the 
power of willing, seems incomprehensible. And if we 
could suppose it to be otherwise, and if it were possible 
to try the experiment of basing human action directly 
upon the emotions and passions instead of the Will, it 
would soon show itself to be a species of action of the 
most perplexed and desultory kind. Like the passions 
themselves, it would be addicted to unforeseen obliquities, 
and would everywhere be characterized by indications of 
violence and change. No language could fully express 
its unfixedness, its versatility, its movements hither and 
thither, in various and contradictory directions. Unre- 
strained by any superintendent influence, the whole out- 
ward life and activity of man would be impelled blindly 
forward, like ships driven in storms mthout a rudder, or 
the heavenly bodies, urged onward in all their rapidity of 
motion, without an observance of the principles of gravi- 
tation. 

It follows, therefore, necessarily, that there must be 
somewhere in the mind a power, which, amid the com- 
plicated variety of mental impulses, exerts a regulative 
and controlling sway. 

The question then arises, what the internal regulative 
power is. And we point at once to the volitive or vol- 
untary principle. In other words, it is the authoritative 
voice of the Will, which, seeing the conflict within, and 
calmly contemplating the claims of interest and passion 



80 VOLITIONS, OR 

on the one hand, and of conscience on the other, pro- 
nounces the decisive and final arbitrement. 

The Will, therefore, may be spoken of with some de- 
gree of propriety as the cuhninating point in man's spir- 
itual natm-e. It sits the witness and the arbitress over 
all the rest. It is essential alike to action and accounta- 
bility, to freedom and order and virtue. Without this, 
all else is comparatively nothing. It is in reference to 
this that all other susceptibilities keep their station and 
perform their functions. They revolve around it as a 
common centre, attracted by its power, and controlled by 
its ascendency. 

§ 37. Remarks on the nature of the will. 

Having seen that the mind is to be contemplated under 
the threefold aspect of intellectual, sensitive, and vol- 
untary, and having considered the relation which the In- 
tellect and the Sensibilities bear to the Will, we are now 
prepared to pass to the consideration of the precise nature 
of the last-named power. 

And here let us interpose a word of caution. It is not 
to be inferred, when we speak of one part of the mind in 
distinction from another, and of passing from one part or 
power to another, that the mind is a congeries of distinct 
existences, or that it is, in any literal and material sense 
of the terms, susceptible of division. Varieties of action 
do not necessarily imply a w^ant of unity in the principle 
from which they originate. The mental principle, there- 
fore, is indivisible. In itself it is truly and essentially a 
unity, though multiplied, in a manner calculated to excite 
the greatest astonishment, in its modes of application. It 
is merely one of these modes of its application, or. rather. 



VOLTJNTARY STATES OF MIND. 81 

one of these modes of its exercise, which is indicated by 
the term Will. Accordingly, the term Will is not meant 
to express anything separate from the mind ; but merely 
embodies and expresses the fact of the mind's operating 
in a particular way. 

And hence the Will may properly enough be defined 

the MENTAL POWER OR SUSCEPTIBILITY BY WHICH WE PUT 

FORTH VOLITIONS. — And in accordance with this definition, 
if we wish to understand more fully what the nature of 
the power is, we must look at its results, and examine the 
natm'e of those states of mind which it gives rise to. — " It 
is necessary," says Mr. Stewart very justly, " to form a 
distinct notion of what is meant by the word volition, in 
order to understand the import of the word icill ; for this 
last word properly expresses that power of the mind, of 
Avhich volition is the act, and it is only by attending to 
what we experience while we are conscious of the act, 
tliat we can understand anything concerning the nature 
of the powder."* 

§ 38. Of the nature of the acts of the ivill or volitions. 

Of volitions, which are the results of the existence and 
exercise of the voluntary power, we are unable to give 
any definition in words, which will of itself make them 
clearly understood. They are simple states of the mind, 
and that circumstance alone precludes the possibility of a 
definition, in any strict and proper sense of the term. It 
is true, we may call them determinations or decisions of 
the mind, or resolutions of the mind, or acts of choice, 
and the like, but this is only the substitution of other 
terms, which themselves need explanation ; and, of course, 

* Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Appendix i., ^ 1. 



02 VOLITIONS, OR 

it throws no light upon the subject of inquiry. And 
hence we are thrown back upon our consciousness, as we 
are in all cases where the natm^e of the simple states of 
mind is the matter of investigation. And whenever we 
have made this appeal to the internal experience, and 
have received its testimony, we are then placed in the 
possession of all that knowledge which the nature of the 
case seems to admit of. And we must suppose that every 
one has, in some degree, done this. It is not presumable, 
at least it is not at all probable, that men who are con- 
stantly in action, pursuing one course and avoiding an- 
other, adopting one plan and rejecting another, accepting 
and refusing, befriending and opposing, all which things, 
and many others, imply volitive action, are still ignorant 
of what an act of the Will is.* 

§ 39. Volition never exists without some object. 

Although we are obliged to depend chiefly upon con- 
sciousness for a knowledge of the nature of volitions, it is 
still tnie that we can make some statements in respect to 
them which may aid us in forming our opinions. Among 
other things, it is an obvious remark, that every act of the 
will must have an object. A very slight reflection on the 
subject will evince this. It is the same here as in respect 
to the act of thought, of memory, and of association, all 
of which imply some object, in reference to which the 
mental act is called forth. 

* Note. — It seems desirable, on some accounts, to retain the old 
English epithet Volitive, in its application to the Will. It is rather 
more definite than the epithet Voluntary. A volitive act is simply an 
act of the Will, and nothing more. A voluntary act may mean, accord- 
ing to the connexion in which it is found, either an act of the Will, or 
some act which is performed in cnsequence of an act of the Will. 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 83 

" Every act of the will," says Dr. Reid, " must have 
an object. He that wills must will something ; and that 
which he wills is called the object of his volition. As a 
man cannot think without thinking of something, nor re- 
member without remembering something, so neither can 
he will without willing something. Every act of will, 
therefore, must have an object ; and the person who wills 
must have some conception, more or less distinct, of what 
he walls."* 

§ 40. It exists only in reference to what we believe to he 
in our 'power. 

Another circumstance may be pointed out in illustration 
of vohtions, viz., that they never exist in respect to those 
things tohich we believe to be wholly beyond our reach. 
As no man believes that it is in his power to fly in the 
air like a bird, so we never find a person putting forth a 
volition to do so. As no man believes that he can origi- 
nate what never had a being before ; in other words, that 
he can create a new existence out of nothing, so we 
never find a man determining, resolving, or willing to 
that effect. Indeed, we are obviously so constituted, that, 
whenever we believe an object to be wholly and abso- 
lutely beyond our power, volition does not and cannot 
exist in respect to it,, The farmer, for instance, in a time 
of severe drought, desii-es rain, but he does not will it. 
He is conscious of a desire, but he is not conscious of a 
volition. The very nature of the mind interposes in such 
a case, and effectually obstructs the origination of the vol- 
itive act. And this is so promptly and decisively done, 
and- done too in all cases without exception, that we find 
* Reid's Essays on the Active Powers, Essay ii., ch, i. 



84 VOLITIONS, OE 

it very difficult even to conceive of anything wliich we are 
certain is vs^holly beyond our power, as being an object of 
the will's action. There may be a desire in such caseSj 
but there is no volition. 

And the usage of language vdll be found to throw 
light on this distinction, making the term desire applica- 
ble both to what is within our reach and what is notj 
and the term volition apphcable only to the former. In 
some cases we speak of Avilling or determining to do a 
thing, while in others we invariably limit oui'selves to the 
mere expression of a wish or desire. Accordingly, it 
would comport with and be required by the usage of 
language, if our thoughts and conversation were directed 
to those matters, to say, that we determine or will to 
walk, but desire to fly 5 that we loill to build a house, but 
desire to create a world. As has akeady been intimated, 
the structure of the mind itself seems to require the appli- 
cation of terms in this way. While nothing is more com- 
mon than to speak of determining or willing to sail from 
New-York, New-Orleans, or some other mercantile place 
to London, no one is ever heard to speak of loilling, but 
of only desiring or wishing, if such a fancy should enter 
his mind, to sail from those places to the Peak of Chim- 
borazo, or to some remote planet, 

§ 41. Volition relates to our own action and to whatever 
else may be dependent upon us. 

Although the statements thus far made tend to throw 
some light upon the nature of the Will's acts, something 
further remains to be remarked. It does not seem defi- 
nite enough merely to assert, that volitions relate solely to 
those things which are in our power, or are believed to be 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 85 

SO. We may inquire further what is meant by being in 
our power, and how far the import of the phi-ase may 
justly extend itself. — And hence it is necessary to add, 
that vohtions relate, in the first place, to our own action, 
either some bodily movement or some act of the mind. 
In saying this, however, we do not mean to say that vo- 
lition is necessarily limited to the present action. We 
may will to perform something of the simplest kind, which 
will exact, in its execution, merely the present moment, 
or something of a more complicated nature, which will 
require no inconsiderable time. Any series of actions, 
intellectual or bodily, capable of being performed by us, 
which the understanding can embrace as one, and by 
means of any relations existing among them can consoli- 
date into one, the will can resolve upon as one. So that 
the action, dependent upon volition, may be the mere 
movement of the foot or finger ; or, it may be the contin- 
uous labom'S of a day, a week, or a year, or some long 
and perilous expedition by land or sea. It is just as 
proper to say that a man wills to take a voyage to Eng- 
land, as to say that he wills to put one foot before the 
other in stepping from his door to the street. 

Volition may exist, in the second place, in respect to 
anything and everything which is truly dependent upon 
us, however circuitous and remote that dependence may 
be. It is proper to say that a merchant has determined 
or willed to fit a vessel or a number of vessels for sea, and 
to send them to different parts of the world, although his 
own direct and personal agency in the thing is hardly 
known. The effect of his volition, extending far beyond 
his own direct and personal capabilities, controls the acts 
of a multitude of individuals who are dependent on him. 
Previous to the commencement of his celebrated expedi- 

H 



86 VOLITIONS, OR 

tion into Russia, the Emperor Napoleon undoubtedly 
brought all the objects relative to the intended expedi- 
tion distinctly before his understanding ; the number and 
the kinds of troops, the arms and ammunition v^dth which 
they were to be furnished, the means of subsistence in the 
various countries through which they were to pass, and 
the expenses incident to the arming and support of a 
body so numerous. The action of the intellect enabled 
him to assimilate and combine this vast complexity of 
objects into one. Although numberless in its parts and 
details, it assumed, as it passed before the rapid glances 
of his understanding, an identity and oneness, which, for 
all the purposes of volition and action, constituted it one 
thing. And, accordingly, it is altogether proper to say, 
that Napoleon purposed, determined, or ttrilled the expe- 
dition into Russia, although the agencies requisite to carry 
it into effect were not lodged directly in himself, but in 
millions of subordinate instruments, that were more or 
less remotely dependent upon him. Certain it is, if he 
had not put forth his volition, the subordinate instrumen- 
talities, however numerous and powerful in themselves, 
would never have united in and secured the result in 
question. 

" It is not necessary," says a recent writer in remarking 
upon this very subject, " to consider volition as directing 
merely our own physical powers. Any power, of which 
wealth, rank, or character gives us the command, is as 
truly the instrument of our will as a hand or a foot. The 
despot, who leads forth his armies of obsequious slaves to 
overthrow cities and desolate empires, as truly ivills these 
events as to move a finger or change an attitude."* 

* Essay on Moral Freedom, by Thomas T. Crybbace, sect. ii. 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 87 



§ 42. Volitions involve a prospective element. 

Another mark or characteristic of vohtions, by which 
Ihey are distinguished from some, though not from all 
states of the mind, is, that they have exclusive relation to 
the future, to something which is to be done. — A volition 
is "futuritive" in its very nature ; it involves in itself, and as 
a part of its own essentiality, a prospective element; it 
has no capacity of turning its eye backward, but always 
looks forward. 

An intellective or perceptive act rests in itself. As 
soon as it assumes the form, of a cognition or knowledge, 
it accomplishes, so far as its own nature is concerned, the 
mission for which it was sent. It takes its position, and 
there it stands ; fm-nishing an occasion, it is true, for other 
feehngs to exist and to operate, but in itself remaining 
not only complete, but satisfied and quiescent. 

But it is not so with a volition, which, from its very 
nature, cannot rest satisfied with the mere fact of its own 
existence. If we may be allowed the expressions, it con- 
tinually reaches forth its hand to grasp objects which have 
not as yet a being. In other words, it always has in view 
something which is to take place hereafter ; something 
which is to be done, the completion of which is, there- 
fore, necessarily future. This trai^ is an element of its 
nature, or, rather, is naturally and necessarily involved in 
its nature, and may be regarded as one of the character- 
istics which help to distinguish it from the perceptive and 
emotive states of the mind at least, if not from others. 



88 VOLITIONS, OR 



§ 43. Volitions may exist with various degrees of strength. 

There is one additional characteristic of voHtions worthy 
of some notice, viz., that the vohtion does not always 
exist with the same degree of force. Undoubtedly every 
one must have been conscious, that the exercise of the 
voluntary power is more prompt and energetic at some 
times than others. We are aware that it is liable to be 
objected to this statement, that if we will to do a things 
there can be nothing less than the volition ; and that it is 
necessarily the same under all circumstances. And it is 
undoubtedly true, that we never will to do an act with 
anything less than a volition ; and that, if there be any 
act of the will at all, it is one truly and fully so. That 
is to say, the act is in all cases the same, as far as its in- 
trinsic nature is concerned. And yet we may confidently 
urge, there is no inconsistency in saying that it may exist 
with different degrees of force. 

The existence of a mental state, which is always the 
same in its nature, in different degrees, is not peculiar to 
volition. The same trait is characteristic of the mental 
act in all cases where we yield our assent or belief. The 
state of mind which we denominate belief is undoubt- 
edly always the same in its nature, but admitting of vari- 
ous degrees. We determine these differences of strength 
in the feeling by means of that same internal conscious- 
ness which assures us of the existence of the mere feel- 
ing itself In other words, we are conscious of, or feel 
our belief to be sometunes weaker and at other times 
stronger, which we express by various terms, such as pre- 
sumption, probability, high probability, and certainty. 
"And by appeahng in the same way to our consciousness 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 89 

of what takes place within, we shall probably come to 
the conclusion that we put forth the act of volition with 
much greater strength at some times than others ; that at 
some tunes it is so feeble as hardly to be distinguished from 
a mere desire or^ Avish, and is scarcely recognised as a 
vohtion, w^hile at other times it is exceedingly marked 
and energetic. 

§ 44. Causes of the variation of the strength of the 
voluntary exercise. 

It may tend to throw some light on the nature of the 
varieties or degrees in the energy of the voluntary act, if 
we make a remark or two in explanation of the causes 
of them. We do not, however, intend to say anything 
here of original or constitutional differences of the volun- 
tary power. We set that topic aside for the present, be- 
cause we shall find hereafter a more suitable opportunity, 
where we can pursue it at length. The degree of strength 
in the volimtary act, considered independently of any con- 
stitutional differences which may perhaps exist, will be 
found to depend on various causes, two of which are 
particularly worthy of notice. — In the first place, as voh- 
tions cannot exist except in respect to those things which 
we believe to be in our power, the strength of the volition 
will natm-ally be in proportion to the strength of such be- 
lief It has already been seen, that, where there is no 
belief of an objects being attainable, there can be no voh- 
tion ; and we should, therefore, conclude a priori, that 
the natural tendency of a diminution of belief would be 
to operate a correspondent diminution of the voluntary 
energy. Accordingly, we find it to be generally the fact, 
that, whenever the possibihty of securing any object in 
H2 



90 VOLITIONS, OB 

view is decidedly doubtful, the voluntary act, imbibing a 
sort of contagious hesitancy, becomes wavering and weak. 
We may, accordingly, lay it down as a general truth, that 
the strength of volitions AAill depend, in part at least, on 
the probability of securing the object placed before us. 
We do not mean to say that there is necessarily no 
energy of volition where one's path is hedged up with 
doubts and difficulties, for it is not unfrequently otherwise ; 
but merely to assert, that the tendency of such doubts and 
difficulties is, all other things being equal, to infuse into such 
energy a mixture of vacillancy and lassitude. And hence 
it is a common artifice, if a man wishes to shake another's 
resolution, to represent to him the difficulties in the way 
of his success, and to insist on the improbability of his 
seeming the object before him. And if we notice care- 
fully, we shall find it to be generally true, although it 
may not always be the case, that a person's efforts will 
become enfeebled and less energetic in proportion as he 
yields credence to such discouraging statements. And a 
diminution of active efforts, of course, implies a diminu- 
tion of voluntary power, 

§ 45. Further illustrations of the same subject. 

(2.) The strength of the volition "svill depend, further- 
more, upon the state of the Sensibilities. If, for instance, 
our desires are strongly directed towards a particular 
object, and if there be no antagonist feeling arising up to 
obstruct and counteract them, it may be expected that the 
volition will be proportionably strong. And if it happen 
in any given case that these strong desires are approved 
and aided by the feelings of obligation, the motive to ac- 
tion will thus be greatly increased, and the force of the 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 91 

voluntary determination or resolve will be likely to be in- 
creased in proportion. And if it be the case that there 
is not only a concurrence of the Obligatory feelings with 
the Desires, but that the feelings of obligation as well as 
the desires are intense and energetic, it may reasonably be 
anticipated that the energy of the voluntary act will still 
further be augmented. 

In regard to the Sensibilities, it is enough briefly to add 
here, that the degree of their intensity will vary from va- 
rious circumstances. Those differences of vividness and 
strength which we notice from time to time, may be 
owing to some constitutional difference in persons, as we 
have already, in the preceding chapter, had occasion to 
see. Sometimes the acuteness and vigour of the sensi- 
bilities is found to vary also from accidental causes, which 
cannot be easily explained. And, in particular, they will 
generally vary, in the intensity of their action, with the 
amount and character of our knowledge, conforming 
themselves in a great measure to the precise position, 
whatever it may be, of the intellect. 

§ 46, Of preference or indifference as applicable to 
the will. 

In some treatises on the "Will, much is said of the will's 
being in a state of preference or of indifference. But it 
is questionable whether the terms preference and indif- 
ference are properly applicable to the Will at all. The 
prominent characteristic of the Will is movement, deter- 
mination, or action, and not feeling. There is no more 
of feeling, no more of sensibility in the Will than in the 
Intellect. But every one knows that we do not apply 
the terms preference and indifference to the intellect ; to 



92 VOLITIONS, OR 

the acts of judgment and reasoning ; to the mere process 
of comparison and deduction. So far as these acts are 
purely intellectual, and without any tincture from the 
sensibilities, they are perfectly cool and unimpassioned. 
And one is not more so than another ; but all are unim- 
passioned alike. The emotion, desire, and passion, which 
are sometimes plausibly ascribed to them, are not to be 
regarded as, in any case, the components or constituents 
of the intellectual acts, but merely the attendants. No 
man says that he has a preference, or that he is indiffer- 
ent, whether he shall believe the equality of the three 
angles of a triangle to tw^o right ones. This is a matter 
where both preference and indifference, choice and refusal, 
are alike inadmissible. He is impelled, by the very con- 
stitution of his nature, to believe if there is evidence ; and, 
on the other hand, he is utterly unable to believe if evi- 
dence is wanting ; and in all cases his belief necessarily 
corresponds with the evidence, being greater or less in 
accordance with it. 

But indifference and preference are equally inapplica- 
ble to the Will, although it may not be so obvious at first. 
A careful examination wall hardly fail to convince one, 
that these terms are properly and emphatically applica- 
ble to the heart or sensibilities; to that portion of our 
nature which is the appropriate seat of the emotions and 
desires, of the various forms of delight and sorrow, of 
love and hatred. It w^ould naturally be expected, there- 
fore, since the Intellect has nothing in its distinctive nature 
in common with the Will, and neither of them have any- 
thing in their distinctive nature in common with the Sen- 
sibilities, if indifference and preference are properly and 
peculiarly applicable to the Sensibilities, that they would 
not be properly and strictly applicable to the Will and 



VOLUNTARY STATES OF MIND. 93 

the Intellect. It belongs to the Heart to prefer, desire, or 
love ; or to be indifferent, to be averse from, to contemn, 
or hate. But the appropriate business of the Will is 
merely to decide, to determine, to act ; expressions which, 
together wn.th many others, are applied to the voluntary 
power, but all with the same import. 

It ought, perhaps, to be added, that these statements are 
made in reference to the common and well-understood 
meaning of the terms in question. If it could be shown 
that indifference implies merely a negation of action j in 
other words, if it merely expresses the fact of not acting 
in any given emergency, then indeed we might admit 
that the term is applicable to the Will. But it will proba- 
bly be conceded that the term is not commonly, although 
it is sometimes, used to express mere absence or want of 
action, but rather the absence or want of emotion and 
desire. And it is in this sense, and not in that of a mere 
negation of action, that we assert its inapplicability to an 
exercise of the Will. 



94 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

CHAPTER V, 

DISTINCTION BETWEEN DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 

§ 47. Of an objection sometimes made to the general 
arrangement. 

In making the general classification of Intellective, 
Sensitive, and Voluntary states of the mind, it is necessa- 
rily involved that we separate Volitions, which constitute 
the third class, from Desires, which are included in and 
make a part of the second. Of the correctness of this 
general arrangement, in its great featm^es, we cannot per- 
mit ourselves to doubt, with the various proofs in its sup- 
port which present themselves from all sides. But it 
cannot be denied, that, in one respect, which w^e now pro- 
ceed to notice, it has not been perfectly satisfactory. We 
refer to the objection sometimes made and urged with con- 
fidence, that, although volitions may clearly be distinguish- 
ed from intellections and also from emotions, they are not 
so easily distinguished from that portion of the Sensibili- 
ties which are denominated the desires. Indeed, by 
some writers, and writers too of no small note and influ- 
ence, they have been considered the saine as desires ; and 
their claim to a distinct and independent nature has been 
wholly rejected. 

As the general arrangement which has been proposed 
is a fundamental one, and is absolutely essential and in- 
dispensable to a true knowledge of the Will, it is proper 
to attempt, not only to establish it by direct proofs in its 
favour, but to meet and obviate any objections which may 
have been made against it, whether those objections relate 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 95 

to the arrangement as a whole or to any of its parts. 
The objection which has been referred to is one of spe- 
cial importance ; and we shall proceed to bestow that 
notice upon it which its prominence claims for it. We 
speak of it as important, because it is undoubtedly true, 
that much of the obscurity which has rested upon the 
whole subject of our Voluntary nature has been owing to 
a mistake here. And obscurity will exist as long as the 
mistake continues. We may even assert ■v^dth confidence, 
that the greatest minds will fail of bringing the important 
inquiries involved in this discussion to a satisfactory con- 
clusion, without first fully and correctly settling this point, 
viz., that the state of mind which we term volition, is en- 
tirely distinct from that lohich we term desire. 

§ 48. Probable cause of desires and volitions being 
confounded. 

Before proceeding to propose our comments on the ob- 
jection before us, we may properly make the remark, that 
it is, on the whole, not extraordinary, that this tendency to 
confound Volitions with the Desires should exist. We 
always find it difficult to separate and discriminate those 
things which have been long and strongly associated. 
Now it is well known that volitions and desires are in 
fact very closely united together, as antecedences and se- 
quences. By the very constitution of our minds they go 
together, and are the sequents and precursors of each 
other. We do not mean to say or to intimate that the 
acts of the Will are based upon the desires alone, exclusive 
of every other possible motive or ground of its exercise. 
But it is undoubtedly true, that the desires constitute the 
sole antecedent causes of volition, (by which we mean 



96 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

the sole grounds or occasions of volition,) in a multitude 
and perhaps a majority of cases. In the discharge of the 
common duties of Hfe, in those every-day matters which 
concern what we shall eat and with what we shall be 
clothed, it is undeniable that we generally choose those 
things and pursue that course of conduct which are most 
pieasing and which most strongly excite our desires. In 
other words, our desires and our volitions go together. 
The one precedes, and the other follows. And, in conse- 
quence of this regular consecution, which is also for the 
most part very quick or rapid, (so much so, in fact, as hard- 
ly to furnish any basis for remembrance,) we gradually 
fall into the habit of confounding the two together, and 
at last come to believe that there is, in truth, no difference 
between them. 

§ 49. The distinction of desires and volitions asserted by 

consciousness. 

With the single further remark, that the tendency 
mentioned in the preceding section, to confound together 
these two states of mind, ought to be carefully guarded 
against, we proceed to the consideration of some things, 
clearly evincing the distinction between them which we 
maintain to exist. And the inquiry naturally presents it- 
self here, as in respect to every other mental state, How 
do we obtain a knowledge of either of them 1 If we con- 
sult our consciousness, which is an original and authorita- 
tive source of knowledge, we find it decisively ascribing 
to the desires a distinct existence, and a distinct and spe- 
cific character. If we consult it again, we find it return- 
ing an answer with equal decision and clearness, that 
volitions too have an existence and a character equally 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 97 

distinct and specific. But if consciousness asserts, in both 
cases, the reahty of an existence stamped with a specific 
and distinctive character, it does not and cannot, in those 
same cases, assert a oneness or identity. On the contrary, 
it must be considered as decisively pronouncing an entire 
separation of the two things, however nearly they may 
sometimes approach each other. 

And it seems proper, when we consider the diflSculties 
that have attended these inquiries, to insist upon this tes- 
timony from within. It is exceedingly desirable that 
every one should reflect carefully and patiently upon the 
nature of Desire and the nature of Volition, as they pre- 
sent themselves to our internal notice in those various cir- 
cumstances of enticement, and temptation, and action in 
which we daily find ourselves placed. Those cases, in 
particular, deserve notice, which not unfrequently occur 
where the volitions exist, and where we resolve to carry 
our plans into effect, in disregard of certain opposing de- 
sires which have been overruled and baffled. Has not 
every man had this expeiience ? Wlien imder the influ- 
ence of high moral sentiments, has he not sometimes de- 
termined to pursue a course to the disappointment of 
many fond wishes, of many lingering and cherished de- 
sires ? Now let him recall the mental feelings and acts at 
such times ; let him carefully reflect upon them, and vnW 
not consciousness not only clearly indicate a distinction, 
but even assert the impossibility of an identity in the case 
under consideration 1 We cannot entertain a doubt that 
it wilL 

I 



98 DISTMCTION BETWEEN 

§ 50 Desires differ from volitions in fixedness and 

permanency. 

There is one particular, on which our consciousness 
gives its testimony, which it is thought may be easily and 
clearly pointed out. Every one must have felt that our 
desires possess a considerable degree of fixedness or per- 
manency ; and that they are distinguished and separated 
from volitions by this trait. We are able to change our 
volitions with great rapidity ; if we may so express it, in 
the twinkling of an eye. We may alter them a thousand 
times a day. We find them exhibiting within their allot- 
ted sphere of operation an astonishing quickness, flexibil- 
ity, and variety in their movements. We make this as a 
general statement, without pretending that there are no 
exceptions. 

But, while this is obviously true of the volitions, there 
does not appear to be the same flexibility, the same facil- 
ity of movement in our desires. We may, indeed, change 
them after a time, and ultimately secure a greater or less 
degree of conformity to what we conceive they ought to 
be. But they are so slow in movement, so heavy and re- 
fractory in the mutations they undergo, that they remind 
lis rather of a burden to be borne than of a living and 
self-operating principle. 

We believe that this statement will be easily and clearly 
understood. Can the man who is in prison suppress in a 
moment and without an effort his desires to see his belov- 
ed family ? Can he who is an exile and a wanderer in a 
distant land easily cease to remember, and to long for 
the woods, and the green fields, and the mountain airs of 
liis childhood ? Every one must know, when a desire is? 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 99 

once deeply implanted in the heart, how long it iingers, 
how hard it is to be overcome. But a fixedness of the 
desires in a particular direction does not necessarily imply 
a fixedness of the volition in the same direction. The 
will may be active when certain desires are immovable, 
because there may be other objects of desire laying the 
foundation of its various decisions, or there may be ob- 
jects of a moral nature presenting a still higher and no- 
bler motive. When the heart is sick, and heavy, and 
burdened, the purpose and high resolve may be elastic 
and full of energy. We feel at liberty, therefore, to as- 
sert, as a general statement, that we are not conscious of 
that immovableness of the voluntary power, and that want 
of elasticity which often attend the desires. But these 
statements, which, we presmne to say, are founded on the 
common experience, cannot be true if desires and volitions 
are identical. 

(j 51. Further proof of this distinction from language. 

May it not also be said ^vith a good degree of confi- 
dence, that, in the use of language, we have a further 
proof of the distinction between Desire and Volition 1 It 
is certainly the fact, that men commonly speak, both in 
their ordinary conversation and in writing, in such a man- 
ner as to imply their conviction of a distinction between 
mere desires or wishes on the one hand, and purposes, re- 
solves, or determinations on the other. As this distinc- 
tion, so easily and frequently observed, may be found 
prevalent, not in one only, but in all languages, it may 
well be regarded as a strong evidence of the imiversal 
consciousness on the subject. This fact has been noticed, 
and set in a strong light by Dr. Reid. — " Desire and Will 



100 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

agree in this, that both must have an object of which we 
must have some conception ; and, therefore, both must be 
accompanied with some degree of understanding. But 
they differ in several things. The object of desire may 
be anything which appetite, passion, or affection leads us 
to pursue ; it may be any event which we think good for 
us, or for those to whom we are well affected. I may 
desire meat, or drink, or ease from pain ; but to say that 
I loill meat, or will drink, or Avill ease from pain, is not 
English. There is, therefore, a distinction in common 
language between desire and will." 

§ 52. Sentiments of esteem and honour ofien imply this 
distinction. 

It will fiirther be seen, on a little reflection, that the 
distinction under consideration is implied in the sentiments 
of esteem and honour which, on various occasions, we en- 
tertain in respect to others. It seems to be the fact, that 
we often bestow esteem and honour on a person, because 
he has resisted and withstood the obvious tendency of his 
own inclinations or desires. We will take a very com- 
mon insta»ce, that of the confirmed drunkard. The ^vine 
sparkles before him ; his tongue and throat are parched, 
and the strongest desires arise. But conscience at the 
same time urges upon him the claims of his family, his 
country, and his God. After enduring this inward con- 
flict for a season, he resolves, he wills, he acts, and dashes 
the alluring bowl to the ground. Every one rejoices at, 
and honours the deed. But it cannot be because the 
desire has been gratified, but because the person has will- 
ed and acted against desire ; because, in the opposing 
array and contest of the powers of his inferior nature, de- 



DESffiES AND VOLITIONS. 101 

sire has been beaten, and the sense of obhgation and duty 
has triumphed by the award of the only possible umpire, 
viz., the Will. We evidently make a distinction, in all 
such cases, between the cravings of a man's appetite, 
which necessarily involve desire, and the act of volition, 
by which the tendency of such desire is counteracted. 

This illustration reminds us of an additional statement of 
Dr. Reid on this subject. — " With regard to our actions," 
he remarks, " we may desire what we do not will, and 
will what we do not desire ; nay, what we have a great 
aversion to. A 'man ^thirst has a strong desire to drink, 
but, for some particular reason, he determines not to grat- 
ify his desire. A judge, from regard to justice and the 
duty of his office, dooms a criminal to die, while from 
humanity or particular affection, he desires that he should 
live. A man for health may take a nauseous draught, 
for which he has no desire, but a great aversion. Desire, 
therefore, even when its object is some action of our own, 
is only an excitement to the will, but is not volition. The 
determination of the mind may be not to do what we 
desire to."* 

§ 53. Of some strictures on the foregoing remarks 
of Reid. 

We are not ignorant that this very passage of Dr. 
Reid has called forth some strictures, the object of which 
is to show, that its statements are in some respects defect- 
ive. It has been contended, that, in the instances above 
adduced by Dr. Reid, the volition has reference to the 
muscular motion, and to that alone. In respect to the 
judge who pronounces the doom of his prisoner, it is 
* Essays on the Active Powers of Man, Essay ii., chap. i. 

12 



102 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

maintained by the oLjector that the judicial announce- 
ment is the result of volition, so far and so far only as 
volition puts certain muscles in motion ; and that all such 
acts of volition are identical in their nature with desires. 
And a like view is maintained to hold good of all similar 
cases, viz., that no volition exists except in respect to the 
muscular action which immediately follows, and that such 
volition is not different from desire. Upon views of this 
kind we have two remarks to make. 

In the first place, if we w^ere to admit the correctness 
of limiting the application of volition to "the production 
of mere muscular motion, still it would not follow that 
volition and desire are identical. But, on the contrary, in 
regard to muscular motion, as in all other cases, we may 
confidently assert, that they are entirely distinct from each 
other, although we are ready to admit, as a general thing, 
that they do not stand in opposition. It is undoubtedly 
true, that we are sometimes liable to confound with the 
desires those volitions, which have no higher office than 
the mere regulation of the muscles, in consequence of 
their generally being in the same direction, and the voli- 
tion being in immediate succession to the desire, and both 
existing perhaps in a very slight degree. Still we may 
safely appeal to every one's consciousness, whenever he 
bestows a suitable examination on the subject, whether he 
is not able, even in very slight instances of muscular 
movement, to draw a distinction between the desire and 
the volition. The desire to move the muscles of the foot, 
or hand, or throat, may have existed for minutes or hours ; 
but, till the volition came, there was no motion ; nor had 
the desire the least possible tendency to secure the motion, 
except through the medium of volition. A man goes 
from his house to his counting-room ; and it is readily ad- 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 103 

mitted that he puts forth various acts of volition, that he 
loills to arise from his chair, that he wills to open the 
door of his house, to set one foot before another, and that 
all his muscular movements are preceded by vohtions. 
And we may admit also that he had a desire to put forth 
these successive acts j but it does not at all follow, that 
the volitions were identical with the desires, any more 
than that they were identical with the various sensations 
and perceptions which existed at the same time. On the 
contrary, in all instances whatever, the distinction between 
the two exists, although it may be less obvious at some 
times than others. The desire (the same as in other 
analogous cases of a higher kind) is merely the forerun- 
ner and preparative of whatever is to be done ', the dis- 
tinct act of volition is necessary to the execution of it. 

§ 54. Volition may exist in respect to those cmnplex acts 
which the mind can embrace as one. 

But we remark, in the second place, as we had occa- 
sion to show in the preceding chapter, that there may be 
volition in respect to combined action and plans of action, 
as well as in respect to single acts. He, who supposes 
that volition is exercised solely and exclusively in refer- 
ence to the motion of the muscles, must have a very in- 
adequate notion of the sphere in which this part of the 
mind is called to operate. This view will seem the more 
admissible when we consider that we have it in our 
power to give a mental unity to actions, which, as they 
are successively brought to their fulfilment, are many, and 
are distinct from each other. It is presumed that the ex- 
istence of this ability will not be denied. Dr. Brown 
himself, in whose writings the strictures on the views of 



104 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

Dr. Reid are found, acknowledges that we can give a 
unity in our conception to things which are complex. 
" In considering," he remarks, " the physical changes 
which come under our view, it is impossible for us, in 
many cases, not to give a sort of unity, in our conception, 
to phenomena which are in their nature complex. We 
consider them as in some measure one ; because, however 
complex they may truly be, they exhibit to us one great 
general character."* And we may add, that we are ca- 
pable of giving a unity to moral objects of whatever 
kind, as well as to physical, if there be any possible rela- 
tion of time, or place, or resemblance, or effect, or cause, 
which the mind can detect and employ as a ligament for 
this purpose. We repeat, that this capability of combi- 
ning, by a mere mental act, many into one, of converting 
multiplicity into unity, is not less true of intellectual and 
moral objects and facts than of physical ; and in many 
cases both are included. 

A man, for instance, contemplates going a journey; he 
examines all the circumstances which may have a bear- 
ing on his proposed expedition ; and combines, by the 
various operations of the intellect, the whole into one 
view. This complex object is addressed, not inr its parts, 
but as a whole, to the sensibilities. It excites the various 
forms of desire, and the feelings of obligation ; and these 
are followed by volition. In all cases of this kind the 
mind is capable of acting, and, in point of fact, it general- 
ly does act, in reference to the whole object. The voli- 
tion may be in accordance with the desire or not ; it may 
be in accordance with the moral feelings, and wholly at 
variance with the desires; but in both alike 'the desires 
and volitions are distinct. And these views hold good 
• Relation of Cause and Effect, part i., ^ 3, pt. ii., (} 3. 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 105 

not only in the case just now remarked upon, of the man 
who dashes from him the intoxicating bowl, but of the 
judge who is called, in the discharge of his duties, to 
pass sentence of death on an accused person. He im- 
doubtedly takes into view the action in its whole extent, 
in all its results. As it exists in the view of his intellect, 
it is one action, though made up of various subordinate 
parts ; and the question, placed distinctly before him and 
subject to his own dispensation, is one of life and death. 
And we may assert with confidence, the true state of his 
mind in ordinary cases is, that he desires the accused per- 
son to live, but wills him to die ; and that the desire and 
volition are not only distinct from each other, but are op- 
posed to each other. The fact is, there are two conflict- 
ing principles within him, the desires on the one hand, 
and the feelino-s of moral oblio-ation on the other. These 
both are in immediate contact with the will j that is to 
say, have a direct influence upon it. In acting in con- 
formity with the moral motive, he acts against the desire ; 
and an act which is against desire, whether that action 
be mental or bodily, cannot with any propriety of terms 
be said to be identical with it. 

§ 55. If the distinction in question do not exist, the found- 
ation of morals becomes unsettled. 

There is another and important point of view in which 
this subject may be considered. — It is presumed that the 
reader will be disposed to admit the existence and the 
great practical utility of that department of our nature, 
which we variously denominate either the moral sense or 
the conscience. But if conscience is of any value, it is 
because the feelings of obligation resulting from it furnish 



106 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

a motive to volition, and become, at times, its antecedent 
and necessary, or, rather, its prerequisite condition ; and 
because the motive thus furnished is different from that 
presented by the appetites, propensities, and passions. But 
if vohtion is always and invariably identical with some 
form of desire, then it is obvious that conscience is exclu- 
ded, and that nothing can be more unmeaning, and use- 
less, and delusory than the apparatus of moral emotions 
and of feelings of obligation, which so evidently exists. 
They furnish, on that supposition, a mere show of author- 
ity, Avithout any actual good results. So that we have 
great reason to assert, that the doctrine, which makes vo- 
lition always and necessarily identical with the highest 
desire, tends to annihilate our moral nature. If we are 
not erroneous in our construction of it, it places man, in a 
moral point of view, on the same footing with brute ani- 
mals. 

We never condemn a brute that fields to its desires 
as guilty of a crime. And why not 7 Because it has no 
conscience, no moral sense ; and, of course, there is no 
basis of its actions except in its desires ; and therefore, 
in acting in accordance with its desires, it acts in con 
formity with its nature, and fulfils the destiny allotted it. 
But certainly it is not so with man, however it may be 
with the lower animals. Man has within him not only 
desires, but feelings of moral obligation ; he appreciates 
not only what is good, but what is right ; and if ever, in 
any assignable case, he wills and acts in accordance with 
his moral feelings, and in opposition to his desires, then 
his volitions and desires are not the same. 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 107 



§ 56. Instances in illustration of the distinction in questixm. 

We think we might bring many instances of a practi- 
cal kind to illustrate the distinction under consideration, 
and which not only illustrate, but tend to prove its exist- 
ence. The parental relation will furnish to those, at least, 
who have experienced the strength of affection incident 
to it, an illustration of the matter before us. The tenderly 
beloved child commits some fault or crime, under such 
circumstances as to render him inexcusable, and the father 
punishes him. Every father knows that the infliction of 
punishment in such cases is attended with a war in his 
own bosom ; the strong feeling of obligation, which an 
enlightened conscience has laid the foundation of, draw- 
ing him one way, and the yearnings of parental affection 
enticing him another; and it does not appear that any- 
thing can still this commotion, and secure the supremacy 
of his moral nature, but the energetic and authoritative 
effort of the will. 

Let us apply these views to the case of the patriarch 
Abraham, when he was called, in the administration of 
the Divine Providence, to offer up his son Isaac amid the 
forests of Mount Moriah. Will any one presume to say 
that, when the aged father stood with his knife extended 
over the bared bo.^om of his only son, there was no con- 
test within him, no earnest and almost overpowering long- 
ino- for his rescue ? Did not his affection kindle with 
tenfold ardour when his beloved boy asked him, with the 
simplicity of untaught and confiding childhood. Where is 
the lamb for the burnt offering 1 While desire for the 
child's safety existed at the highest point of intensity, 
there were other high and sacred principles of action ; 



108 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

and, in view of them, the power of voHtion, collecting all 
its strength, smote through the tumultuous torrents of 
affection, as the rod of Moses divided the troubled waters 
of the sea. 



§ 57. Other instances in illustration of proof. 

Such instances abound in all periods of history, profane 
as well as sacred; and particularly in Roman history. 
The reader of Roman history will recollect, that when 
the sons of Lucius Junius Brutus conspired against the 
Roman republic, and the conspiracy was discovered, they 
were condemned to die. It became the duty of the fa- 
ther, who was at that time at the head of the Common- 
wealth, to see the pmiishment enforced. Can any one 
doubt that there was a strife, a contest, in the soul of the 
patriotic Roman? The historian informs us that this 
struggle was visible in his countenance, (^eminente animo 
patrio inter publicce pmice ministerium,) as he stood at 
the dreadful scene of the execution. But if desire and 
volition are the same thing, where was the foxmdation for 
such inward contest ? If the desire was coincident with 
the volition ; if the latter was lost and absorbed in the 
former; and if his conscience approved of the transac- 
tion as it did, then there must necessarily have been a 
calm within and without ; there could not possibly have 
been an agitation, dissidence, and rending asunder of the 
interior nature. 

There is another instance in Roman history not less af- 
fecting than this. During the fatal period of the Roman 
decemvirship, certain transactions took place, which, while 
they agitated the whole city of Rome with sentiments of 
grief and indignation, infused the deepest horror and de- 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 109 

spair into the heart of a worthy father. His affections 
were bound up in a beloved daughter, who was insidious- 
ly assailed by one of the most powerful magistrates, in a 
manner which left no hope of deliverance. In this situa- 
tion, seeing his daughter exposed to unavoidable and un- 
speakable infamy, he seized the knife of a butcher, and 
plunged it into .her bosom. And is it possible for us to say, 
with any propriety of language, that Virginius desired the 
death of his daughter ? The whole history of the trans- 
action shows that he doted upon her with all the depth 
and sacredness of parental love. The assertion, therefore, 
is incredible. He could not have desired it; human 
nature spurns the thought as an impossibility ; and yet he 
too fatally willed it. He considered her life as but dust 
in the balance in comparison with the loathsome degrada- 
tion which was so cruelly threatened by one whom he 
had no power to resist ; and in putting her to death, not 
from desire, but from the sentiment of duty, he willed and 
executed what at the same time he lamented and ab- 
horred as in itself a most terrible and overwhelming 
calamity. 

§ 58. Proofs drawn from some facts in the constitution 
of the mind. 

At this point in the argimient we proceed to remark, 
that there is one interesting psychological or mental fact, 
which has probably never been brought into the discussion, 
but which seems to us decisive of the point at issue. We 
refer to the fact that, whenever the object of a morally 
obligative feeling on the one hand, or of a desire on the 
other, is secured, there is always, by the very constitution 
of our nature, an attendant emotion of pleasure ', in other 

K 



110 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

words, an internal realization of happiness. When in 
any given case one of these impulsive mental elements, 
viz., desires and obligative sentiments, is gratified, and the 
other is not gratified, it is true, that the accompanying 
sense of pain on the disappointed part may counterbal- 
ance, and more than counterbalance, the attendant pleas- 
ure on the other. So much so, that we may not ahvays 
have a distinct perception of the pleasure. Nevertheless, 
the gi'eat psychological fact, which is involved in the veiy 
constitution of our nature, will be foxmd, on examination, 
to remain sm-e. 

Now let us apply this view to some of the cases which 
have been introduced, to the judge who has sentenced a 
prisoner to death ; to Abraham when he was about to offer 
up Isaac ; to Brutus when he presided at the execution of 
his children ; to Virginius when he plimged the dagger 
into his daughter's bosom, and any other similar instances. 

We are to notice, in the first place, that the moral sen- 
timent or conscience approved what they did. So far all 
was right ; and they imdoubtedly had the satisfaction 
which always and necessarily attends the doing of a 
conscientious action. Now if you make desire and voli- 
tion the same thing, it vdll follow that they not only did 
what they felt they ought to do, but that they did also 
what they desired to do. The desirive feeling, as well as 
the moral or obligative feeling, was gratified. 

Consequently, you must add to the degree of happi- 
ness already existing that additional degree of happiness 
which naturally arises from the gratification of desires. 
Not only this ; every source of sorrow (for obviously 
there can be no sorrow where the doing of right coin- 
cides with our desires) must have been shut up, so far as 
these particular transactions were concerned, and entirely 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. Ill 

excluded. These persons, therefore, instead of beino- 
bowed down with grief, and the objects of the deepest 
compassion, must have been not only entirely calm, but 
happy in the very highest degree. To have inflicted a 
dagger upon a beloved child must have been, under these 
circumstances, a sort of holyday amusement. No tear 
could have started from their eyes, no shade of sorrow 
could have dimmed their brows ; but, on the contrary, they 
must have been as happy as virtue, combined with the 
fulfilment of their own desires, could have made them. 

But it is unnecessary to say, that this view is wholly at 
variance with the facts. And this is not all. Human na- 
ture itself revolts at the mere statement. And we do not 
hesitate to assert, in view of the facts which have been 
given and others like them, that the philosophy which 
makes desire and volition identical, never has explained 
and never can explan the exhibitions which hmnan na- 
ture constantly presents. 

§ 59. Of the chastisements of the Supreme Being injiicted 
on those he loves.- 

There is one consideration more. — May we not draw 
light down upon this subject from an observation of the 
course which our adorable Creator takes in his dealings 
with his creatures'? Throughout the Holy Scriptures 
we find expressions which indicate the strongest love 
towards them, when, at the same time, he is compelled to 
inflict his chastisements. The Old Testament is full of 
expressions of kindness and tenderness towards his an- 
cient people. " He nourished and brought them up as 
children j" " he led them about, instructed them, and 
kept them" as the apple of his eye." In their rebellions 



112 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

he calls after them with unspeakable affection. " How 
shall I give thee up, Ephraim ? How shall I deliver 
thee, Israel ? How shall I make thee as Admah ? How 
shall I set thee as Zeboim 1 Mine heart is turned within 
me, my repentings are kindled together !" But, although 
he loved them with all the intensity of a father's affection, 
still the eternal principles of his nature compelled him to 
exercise his benevolence in subordination to the senti- 
ments of justice. When his people rebelled, and did 
not listen to his warnings, he gave them over to dreadful 
punishments. He poured upon Israel the fury of his anger, 
the strength of battle, and set him on fire round about. 
But, although he willed the wasting, and desolation, and 
sufferings of his people, (for he says, " who gave Jacob 
for a spoil, and Israel to the robbers ? Did not the 
Lord ?") we do not feel at liberty to say that he desired 
it, for everything in the Old Testament shows that it 
greatly grieved him. 

And who does not recollect the affecting language of 
the Saviour, uttered over the Holy City ? " Oh Jerusa- 
lem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest 
them that are sent unto thee !" And yet soon afterward 
the sign of the Son of man appeared in heaven •. the sun 
and the moon were darkened ; the earth mourned ; there 
was famine, pestilence, and earthquake ; of the beloved 
and beautiful Temple not one stone was left upon another ; 
and all Jerusalem, that delight of the whole earth, was 
bathed in blood and wrapped in fire. — ^Not because the 
Saviour had ceased to love it, and to desire its good, but 
because the measure of its iniquity was full, and the dic- 
tates of eternal justice compelled him to loill and to in- 
flict a punishment which a being so infinitely benevolent 
could never have desired to see. — And does he not, at 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 113 

this moment, truly desire the retiu-n and salvation of every 
sinner ? Does he not earnestly entreat them ? And when 
he shall inflict on these same sinners miutterable chastise- 
ments on account of their obduracy, will it be because he 
ceases to love, or because immutable justice requires it ? 

On this subject we cannot refrain from adding, in un- 
feigned sincerity, that sound philosophy requires the Bible 
to be understood as it stands, in its obvious import, and 
as it would be interpreted by an unlettered reader. In 
the gTeat outlines of his mental constitution, it is strictly 
and emphatically true, as Scripture informs us, that man 
is formed in the image of his Maker. And it is as true 
of God as of man, that there are elements in his nature 
w^hich lead him to determine or will that which He does 
not desire. It neither is nor can be true of God, that He 
ever desires the infliction of punishment, though the obdu- 
racy of transgressors often leads him to will it. To desire 
the infliction of misery in any way whatever, in the strict 
and original sense of the word desire, is the characteristic 
of an evil, and not of a good being. It is the height of 
impiety to attempt to pervert the often repeated and ear- 
nest expressions of the Supreme Being on this subject. 
" As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the 
death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his 
ways and live." 

§ 60. Objected that these vieivs lead to contradictions. 

If it were deemed of consequence enough, we might 
stop here to consider some objections, chiefly of a verbal 
kind, of which it will, perhaps, answer all purpose to no- 
tice one that may serve as a specimen of others. It being 
assumed that every act of desire implies a preference or 
K2 



114 DISTINCTION BETWEEN 

choice, and it being further said, in way of definition, 
that volition is the act of choosing, we are then confront- 
ed with the obvious contradiction, that, if the volition is 
ever actually opposed to the desire, we choose what we 
do not choose, &c. This objection, perhaps a plausible 
one in the minds of some, will be found, on examination, 
to resolve itself into a verbal fallacy, and natm-ally van- 
ishes as soon as that fallacy is detected. 

It is well known that, owing to the imperfection of 
langniage, we not unfrequently apply the same term to 
things which, both in their natm'e and relations, are dif- 
ferent from each other. Now -it is undoubtedly true that 
the common usage of language authorizes us to apply the 
terms choice and choosing indiscriminately to either the 
desire or the volition ; but it does not follow, and is not 
trae, that we apply them to these different parts of our 
nature in precisely the same sense. We sometimes use 
the Avord choice when it obviously implies and expresses 
desire ; and the desire in this case differs from desire in 
other cases, not in its nature, but only in the circumstance 
that it is a desire which predominates over other desires 
existing in reference to other conflicting objects brought 
before the mind at the same time. That is to say, when 
the word choice imphes desire at all, it has reference to a 
nmnber of desirable objects brought before the mind at 
once, and implies and expresses the ascendant or pre- 
dominant desire. It is that particular desire, in distinc- 
tion from others, which we denominate our choice. 

At other times w^e use the term choice or choosing in 
application to the will ; but, when we do so use it, we are 
to regard it as modified by the nature of the subject to 
which it is applied. The choice of the will is the same 
as the decision of the "svill ; and the decision of the will 



DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 115 

is the same as the act of the will. The word in question, 
then, when it is 'applied to that power, expresses the mere 
act of the will, and nothing more, with the exception, as 
in the other case, that more than one object of volition 
was present in the view of the mind before the putting 
forth of the voluntary act. In fact, it is the circumstance 
that two or more objects are present which suggests the 
use of the word choice or choosing in both cases ; but we 
are not at all to suppose that the use of the word implies 
or involves a change in the natm-e, but only in the condi- 
tion or circumstances of the mental act. The acts are 
entirely different in their nature, although, under certain 
circumstances, the same name is applied to them. When 
they are both called choice or acts of choice, they are 
indeed verbally, but not really, identical. If these views 
are correct, (and we believe they be,) then the contradic- 
tion spoken of, whenever it takes place, is not a real, but 
merely a verbal one. If we ever choose against choosing, 
it will be found to be merely that choice which is volition, 
placed in opposition to that choice which is desire; a 
state of things which, as we have already seen, not un- 
frequently exists, and in which there is no incompatibility. 

§ 61. Opinions of Mr. Locke and others on this subject. 

We shall close this chapter with remarking, that the 
distinction in question is more or less clearly recognised 
and sustained by a considerable nmuber of M^ritere, whose 
opinions, as they were given on mature deliberation, are 
entitled to great weight, particularly Mackintosh, Reid, 
Good, Stewart, and Bockshammer among others. At an 
earlier period Mr. Locke also took the same ground in 
the following passage, which we commend to the consid- 



116 DISTINCTION BETWEEN DESIRES AND VOLITIONS. 

eration of the reader. — " I find the will often confounded 
■with several of the affections, especially Sesire, and one 
put for the other ; and that by men who would not will- 
ingly be thought not to have had very distinct notions of 
things, and not to have written very clearly about them. 
This, I imagine, has been no small occasion of obscurity 
and mistake in this matter j and therefore is, as much 
'as may be, to be avoided. For he that shall turn his 
thoughts inward upon what passes in his mind when he 
walls, shall see that the will or power of volition is con- 
versant about nothing but that particular determination 
of the mind whereby, barely by a thought, the mind en- 
deavours to give rise, continuation, or stop to any action 
which it takes to be in its power. This, well considered, 
plainly shows that the wdll is perfectly distinguished from 
desire, which, in the very same action, may have a quite 
contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon."* 
Mr. Stewart, as has already been intimated, takes similar 
views. Such is the characteristic and almost extreme 
caution of this distinguished writer, that any opinion 
which he deliberately hazards is entitled to great consid- 
eration. Upon the subject now under discussion, he has 
the following remark : " There is a state of mind, per- 
fectly distinct both from the power and the act of willing, 
with which they have been frequently confounded, and 
of which it may, therefore, be proper to mention the char- 
acteristical marks. The state I refer to is properly called 

DESIRE." 

* Essay concerning Human Understanding, book ii., ch. xxi. 



PART 11. 



LAWS OF THE WILL. 



CHAPTER L 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 

§ 62. The preceding chapters preparatory to whoi follows. 

The remarks that have been made in the First Part of 
this Work relate to the General Nature of the Will. It 
seemed important to take this general view. It was ob- 
viously necessary, before entering into the examination of 
the long-contested topics that are to follow, to review and 
settle the subject, although at the expense of repeating 
some things said in another place, of the great outlines of 
the mind in its departments of the intellective, sensitive, 
and voLiTiVE. It seemed especially necessary, when we 
consider the mistakes that have prevailed upon that point, 
to assert and maintain the distinction existing between 
Desire and Volition. Nor was it enough to inquire into 
those things which distinguish the Will from the other 
great mental departments. It seemed to be requisite also 
to indicate briefly some particulars which are especially 
characteristic of it, and which contribute to constitute its 
essential and distinctive nature. In looking back upon 
what has been brought forward, we indulge the hope, 
perhaps, however, without sufficient foundation, that some 
doubts have been cleared up, and some principles satis- 
factorily established. The remarks thus necessarily made 
may indeed appear to have been protracted to an inor- 
dinate length ; and we can only say in reply, if such is 
thought to be the case, that they were rendered as concise 



120 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

as seemed consistent with any adequate notice of the nu- 
merous topics that have come under review. 

And it seems to come in place to add here, that in 
everything which has been said there has been an object. 
Every part of this Treatise will be found to be more or 
less connected with other parts ; and, perhaps, more close- 
ly than w^ould at first seem probable. And accordingly, 
the doctrines and principles w^hich have been brought for- 
ward, and more or less elucidated and estabUshed, are 
introductory to three distinct series of views of great in- 
terest in themselves, as well as of great practical impor- 
tance, having relation respectively to the Laws, the Free- 
dom, and the Power of the Will. These leading topics 
will be successively considered. 

§ 63. Of the importance of the topics now entered upon. 

Li examining the matters of inquiry which are to fol- 
low, particularly the Laws and the Freedom of the will, 
we presume to say that we have a claim on the strict and 
candid attention of the reader. While few questions pre- 
sent themselves to one's notice of greater interest than 
these, a regard to historical truth requires it to be added, 
that on few has there been a greater difference of opinion. 
These inquiries, moreover, which lie so closely at the root, 
of human accountability, are as important as they are in- 
teresting, not only in a speculative point of view, and as 
presenting complicated and difficult problems for solution, 
but also on account of their practical results. If a man, 
for instance, adopts the opinion that there is no such thing 
as freedom of the will, and that men are the subjects of 
an irresistible fatality, it will generally follow that his 
practice will be correspondent to such a belief Placing 



xJNiVERSALITY OF LAW. 121 

an erroneous interpretation on the words of Solomon, 
that " time and chance happen to all men," such persons 
throw themselves upon the wave of their destiny, and are 
floated onward with an utter disregard of the issue, wheth- 
er it be good or evil, shameful or glorious. No matter 
what takes place, say they ; it is all from a higher power; 
and it would be wholly ineffectual and presumptuous in 
mere insects to prescribe plans for the Deity. The great- 
est circmuspection, the most arduous labours, the most 
invincible determination, will effect nothing against the 
allotted and predestined course of events. Philosophers 
may speculate, and political cabinets may lay their plans ; 
but, after all, the fate of Em'ope may depend, as it has 
once depended, upon a dispute about a pair of gloves, or 
some other trivial circmnstance which happens to form a 
hnk in the unalterable chain of destiny.* 

On the other hand, if a person fully believes that all 
things are in his own power, in the sense of excluding a 
wise and efficient superintendency, it leads to a presump- 
tuous self-confidence altogether unsuitable and dangerous. 
Puffed up with an unwarrantable self-conceit, he does 
not feel the need of asking aid from on high ; he does 
not conform his conduct to the indications of Divine Prov- 
idence ; but lays his plans, and attempts their execution, 
wholly in his own strength. 

These respective systems, when adopted to the exclu- 
sion of other views which might control and modify them, 
may justly be pronounced false and dangerous ; as incon- 
sistent with somid philosophy as they are with private duty 
and the general good ; although it is undoubtedly true, 
that in all ages of the world they have been made the 
governing principle ot multitudes. We are authorized, 

* See the Prince of Machiavel, ch. xxv., and Examen du Prince. 

L 



122 LAWS OF THE WH-L IMPLIED IN THE 

therefore, in saying, that the particular subjects on which 
we now propose to enter are very important, in a practical 
point of view. It will be our desire to examine them 
with that care and candour which their practical impor- 
tance demands ; and, mthout any undue expression of 
confidence, we would indulge the hope of placing them 
in a hght at once consistent with the claims of God and 
the responsibilities of man. 

§ 64. The inquiry, whether the will has its laws prelim- 
inary to that of its freedom. 

In order to approximate the true notion of the Freedom 
of the WILL, an inquiry which will receive particular atten- 
tion in its place, it seems proper to attempt the settlement 
of a preliminary question, viz., ivhether the will is subject 
to laws. If it be true, as we shall introduce some consid- 
erations to show, that the Will has its laws, then the free- 
dom of the Will, whatever may ' be its nature, must ac- 
commodate itself to this preliminary fact. We will assume 
here that the Will is free ; we have no disposition to dis- 
pute the correctness of that view ; undoubtedly its free- 
dom is susceptible of ample demonstration ; but if there 
be other mental facts equally demonstrable, then it follows 
that the freedom of the Will must exist in accommodation 
to such other facts, and can be such a freedom, and such 
only, as is consistent with them. This, it would seem, is 
a very obvious view ; and hence it is exceedingly impor- 
tant that this point should be settled first. It will, accord- 
ingly, now be our object to propose certain considerations 
to show that the will has its laws. 



UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 123 



§ 65. Everything throughout nature has its laws. 

In entering upon the question whether the Will has its 
laws, may we not reason, in the first place, from the gen- 
eral analogy of nature ? If the universe is everywhere 
legibly inscribed and written over with the great truth, 
that all things are subject to law, are we not furnished 
with a strong presumption that we shall not discover an 
exception in any part of man's mental nature? As to 
the alleged fact on which we base this presumption, 
there can be no doubt of it. — Let us look, in the first 
place, at material things. The parts of the earth are 
kept in their relative position by the operation of some 
fixed law ; the various immense bodies, composing the 
system to which the earth belongs, are made to revolve 
in obedience to some unalterable principle ; there is not 
even a plant, or a stone, or a falling leaf, or a grain of 
sand, which can claim an exemption from regulation and 
control. And what is true in these few instances, is true 
in all. No certain and undoubted exception can be 
found. 

And this great truth holds good also of things which 
have life and intelligence. Objects of a spiritual or 
mental , nature (if not in precisely the same sense in 
which the assertion is applicable to matter, yet in some 
true and important meaning of the expressions) have 
their appropriate and determinate principles of being and 
action. There may, indeed, be some things which are as 
yet un explainable by man ; there may be some objects of 
knowledge, to the full imderstanding of whose nature 
limited human reason cannot as yet reach ; but still the 
vast majority of objects, coming within the ordinary range 



124 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

of our inspection, obviously tend to found and to foster 
the general conviction, that there are laws wherever there 
are existences, whatever the kind or nature of the exist= 
ence. — There is, therefore, undoubted truth in the remark 
of Montesquieu, with which he introduces his great work 
on the Spirit of Laws, where he says, after some sugges- 
tions on the meaning of the term, " all beings have their 
laws, the Deity his laws, the material world its laws, the 
intelligences superior to man their laws, the beasts their 
laws, man his laws." 

§ 66. Reference to remarks of Cicero on the universality 
of law. 

The mention of Montesquieu, a name equally dear to 
literature and to liberty, naturally suggests the recollec- 
tion of some men of a kindred genius. The idea of the 
universality of law has ever been familiar to minds 
that were particularly distinguished for expansiveness of 
thought and for philosophical sagacity. They seem to 
have seized upon this great truth intuitively ; not by the 
slow deductions of reasoning, but by a sort of instinct of 
intellect. The illustrious orator of Rome, among others, 
asserts the existence of a law which has its foundation in 
nature, and which is universal, uniform, and eternal. He 
declares God to be the author of it ; and adds, that no 
man can exempt himself from its control without fleeing 
from himself, and without putting off and alienating his 
own nature. It is of this law and in connexion with 
these statements that he employs those celebrated expres- 
sions, " nee erit alia lex Romae, alia Athenis, alia nunc, 
alia posthac, sed et omnes gentes et omni tempore una lex 
et sempiterna et immortalis continebit, unusque erit commu- 



UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 125 

nis quasi magister et imperator omnium Deus."* No 
person who examines the whole of this remarkable pas- 
sage with care, will fail to perceive, that its author had 
in his conceptions the idea of a great central Power, pos- 
sessed of perfect wisdom and justice, from whom emanates 
a paramount and controlling influence, which is binding 
upon nations as well as individuals, which extends to all 
parts of his dominions, malring one of many, and har- 
monizing them all by requiring them to act in subjection 
to himself 



§ 67. Reference to remarks of Hooker on the universality 
of laio. 

We cannot forbear introducing here, as in accordance 
with the sentiments of this chapter, the memorable ex- 
pressions of Hooker, although at the risk of repeating 
what may already be familiar to the reader. " Of law, 
no less can be said than that her seat is the bosom of 
God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things in 
heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feel- 
ing her care, the greatest as not exempted from her 
power 5 both angels and men, and creatures of what 
condition soever, though each in different spheres and 
manner, yet all with uniform consent admiring her as the 
mother of their peace and joy."f 

We cannot agree with those, if such there are, who 
may be disposed to set down this sublime passage as a 
species of rhetorical exaggeration, an instance of well-se- 
lected and sounding language, rather than of well-adjust- 
ed thought ; but would rather regard it as the expression 

* Cicero, De Republica, lib. iii. 

t Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, book i. 

JL 2 



126 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

of a reality, uttered on the most sober consideration ; a 
reality perhaps not perfectly visible and obvious to minds 
of very limited expansion, but of which undoubtedly the 
learned and eloquent writer had a clear and impressive 
perception. The train of thought w^hich pervades the 
passage is obviously identical with that of Cicero. It 
involves and indicates the sublime truth, that law, the" 
great bond of the Universe, finds its origin and support 
in the bosom of the Deity, and is, in its basis or elements, 
co-substantial with his nature ; and going forth from that 
primitive and prolific centre in every possible direction, 
like rays from the sun, embraces, harmonizes, and con- 
trols every form and modification of being, whether intel- 
iigent or unintelligent. And how full of grandeur and 
of consolation is the thought ! If we could suppose that 
even a single unintelligent atom had broken loose from 
the infinite ramifications of the great principle of unity, 
which is only another name for that law which binds one 
existence to another, and both to a third, and all to the 
great central and superintendent Power, it would not fail 
to fill us with misgivings and anguish. The doctrine of 
the universality of law, w^hich is the same as the univer- 
sality of power under the guidance of fixed principles, 
recommends itself to the heart as well as the understand- 
ing, and dispenses happiness while it controls conviction. 
Is any one prepared to say that he is not rendered happy 
in the recollection that God is around us and in us ? Is 
it not a source of consolation, that his paternal eye rests 
for ever upon our path ; that he knoweth our lying down 
and rising up, our going out and coming in ? And that, 
while he superintends the minutest actions and events per- 
taining to ourselves. He extends abroad, amid the num- 



UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 127 

berless varieties of existence, the watchfulness of his per- 
vading control, 

" And fills, and bounds, connects and equals all T" 

§ 68. The imiversality of law irrfplied in the belief of a 
Divine existence. 

The idea of a God necessarily embraces and implies 
the notion of the universality of law. Many of those 
nations, that have not been favoured with the light of 
Revelation, have maintained the doctrine of a Supreme 
Power. The human mind is so constituted, and is loca- 
ted under such a variety of influences favom'able to such a 
result, that the idea of a God, though sometimes wholly 
obstructed by peculiarly untoward circumstances, natural- 
ly developes itself with a greater or less degree of strength. 
The most savage nations, if it be too true that they are 
apt to forget Him in theii- prosperity, seek to propitiate 
Him in the day of sorrow. They generally have a con- 
viction, indistinct indeed, but not the less real, that a 
Deity is present ; that there is some possible mode of com- 
munication between Him and men ; that the virtuous are 
the objects of his favour, and the vicious of his displeas- 
ure ; " pro se quisque, Deos tandem esse, et non negligere 
humana, fremunt.'''"''^ But with him who enjoys the com- 
munications of the Divine Word, the conjectm^es, which 
are furnished by the hght of nature, are exchanged for a 
cheering certainty which can never be shaken. This 
high and inscrutable Being made all things ; he not only 
framed "the world and all things therein, and ordained the 
moon and the stars, but he also holds in his hands the 
hearts of the children of men, and turns them whitherso- 
* Livy, lib. iii., cap. Ivi. 



128 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

ever he will. He is not only unlimited in power, but whol- 
ly unrestricted and boundless in knowledge, and supreme in 
the administration of his government. To deny either the 
one or the other, either his omniscience, or his almightiness, 
or the supremacy of Iris administration, would be nothing 
less than to dethrone Him from his place in the universe, 
and virtually to deny his existence as Deity. As has 
been remarked, the idea of a God, possessed of such 
transcendent attributes, (an idea which is not only pro- 
posed and fostered by Revelation, but is the natural and 
necessary product of the human mind, except in those 
few cases where it is repressed and annulled by peculiar 
circumstances,) necessarily embraces and implies the notion 
of the universality of law. 

The doctrine that there is anything whatever which is 
truly and entirely exempt from every species of oversight 
and control, is altogether inconsistent writh the recognition 
of the existence of a Supreme Being. If there is a God, 
there is a universal law. Can that power properly be 
called omnipotent, within the sphere of whose operations 
there are objects which are entirely exempt from its su- 
pervision and control? Can that wisdom properly be 
called omniscient, which knows not what will be the de- 
terminations and acts of men in all assignable circimistan- 
ces, in all time and place ? Can that government be, with 
any propriety of language, denominated a Supreme gov- 
ernment, within whose limits there are agents who are not 
reached and bound by any of those ties, even the feeblest 
of them, which operate to unite the circumference to the 
centre, and to combine and assimilate the multiplied parts 
under one common head ? We must repeat it, thereforCj 
if there is a God, there must be a law, which is, in the 
strict sense of the word, universal. 



UNIVERSALITY OF LAW. 129 



§ 69„ Jl presumption thus furnished in favour of the 
subjection of the loill to law. 

It is not necessary to pursue this subject, when contem- 
plated under this general form, at much length. What 
has been said will answer our present purpose. If the 
doctrine of the universality of law be tenable, what shall 
we say of the Will ? Does not the position, that the Will 
is not subject to laws, imply an anomaly in the universe 1 
Whatever is not under some sort of control, but is entirely 
irregular, contingent, and exempt from all conditions, is 
necessarily irresponsible to the super\asion of anything, 
even God himself. We have, then, an exceedingly strong 
presumption, w^hen we look at the subject in the most 
general light, in favour of the proposition that the Will 
has its laws. Especially when we consider the relation 
which the Will sustains to the other powers ; that its ac- 
tion constitutes the great result to which the operation of 
the other parts of our nature tends ; in other words, that, 
in all cases of movement or exertion, the volition is the 
consmnmation of all the other mental acts, and, in effect, 
represents the whole mind. If the Will acts contingently, 
then the man acts contingently ; and while he retains this 
alleged specific character of acting in this way, he is not 
only free from all law, thus destrojdng that peace and joy 
of which Hooker asserts her to be the mother, but he 
cannot be controlled even by the Deity. He has suffered 
a revulsion from the parent stock ; he has gone off and 
set up for himself; he has established an empire of his 
own, where even the Most High must not enter -, a state 
of things which certainly finds no parallel among the 
other existences, powers, and intelligences of the universe, 



130 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN 

and which is rebuked ahke by the conclusions of reason- 
ing and by the suggestions of virtue. 



CHAPTER n. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MORAL GOVERNMENT. 

§ 70, Of the existence of a moral government. 

Now let us turn our attention from these interesting but 
general considerations, which have especial relation, it 
will be noticed, to what may be called natural law and 
the NATURAL authority of the Supreme Being, to those 
leading principles which we suppose to pervade his moral 
government. And which not only pervade and are es- 
sential to the Divine government, but to all moral gov- 
errmient, by whatever superintendence it may be admin- 
istered. 

Accordingly, it is our design, in the present chapter, to 
bring reasons to show, that the doctrine of the Will's sub- 
jection to law is necessarily implied in the fact of moral 
GOVERNMENT. And the argument will apply equally well, 
as has been intimated, whether the Moral Government 
imder consideration be regarded as divine or human. 
We, of course, assume in the argument, that we are rea- 
soning with those who fully believe and admit that Moral 
Government exists, and that men are subjects of it. Cer- 
tainly there is ample evidence that such is the case, in- 
dependently of what is taught on the subject in Revela- 
tion. The light of nature clearly and strikingly indicates 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. 131 

that a moral government, extending its authority over the 
human race in particular, has an existence. " Mankind," 
says Bishop Butler, who has investigated this subject with 
his acknowledged ability and candour, " find themselves 
placed by God in such circumstances as that they are 
unavoidably accountable for their behaviour, and are often 
punished, and sometimes rewarded under his government, 
in the view of their being mischievous or eminently ben- 
eficial to society."* Revelation, whatever may be the 
clearness or obscmity of the indications of imaided nature, 
places the existence of such a moral government beyond 
all doubt. We suppose, therefore, the fact of such a gov- 
ernment to be admitted. 

§ 71. Laws of the vnll deducihle from, the Jirst 'principles 
of moral government. 

If a moral government exists, as is assumed to be the 
fact, and is known to be so, then it has its first principles 
or elements. It must, of course, have its predominant 
traits, its distinctive characteristics, some admitted and es- 
sential truths. If these traits or principles are assented 
to, they must obviously be assented to with such conse- 
quences as may fairly attach to them, whatever those con- 
sequences may be. And hence the mode of om' reason- 
ing. 

In conducting the argument drawn from this source, 
we shall attempt to point out some of those things which 
are universally understood to be implied in, and to be es- 
sential to, a moral government ; and as these elementary 
principles are successively pointed out, shall briefly exam- 

* Butler's Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of 
Nature, pt. i., ch. iii. 



132 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN 

ine their application to the subject under inquiry. And 
in this way we propose to make it appear, that the doc- 
trine of the subjection of the volitive power to laws is 
implied in the existence of moral government. And if 
such a government exists, which is conceded to be the 
fact, then the doctrine in question is true. 

§ 72. Laios of the will inferred from that supremacy or 
paramount authority which is implied in a moral gov- 
ernment. 

Every moral government implies, in the first place, a 
ruler, a governor, some species of supreme authority. 
The term government itself, separate from any qualifying 
epithet, obviously expresses the fact that there are some 
beings governed, which is inconceivable Avithout the cor- 
relative of a higher and governing power. And what is 
true of all other government, is certainly not less so of 
that species of government which is denominated moral 
government. In all moral government, therefore, there 
must undoubtedly be some supreme authority, to which 
those who are governed are amenable. 

Now if men are under government, they are under law. 
To be governed is obviously to be regulated, guided, or 
controlled, in a greater or less degree. To say that men 
are governed, and are, at the same time, exempt from law, 
is but little short of a verbal contradiction, and is certain- 
ly a real one. But when we speak of men as being 
under laws, we do not mean to assert a mere abstraction. 
We mean to express something actually existing ; in oth- 
er words, we intend to assert \kefact, that the actions of 
men, whatever may be true of their freedom, are in some 
way or other reached by an effective (that is to say, by a 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. 133 

true or real) supervision. But vvrhen we consider the un- 
denied and undoubted dependence of the outward act 
on the inward volition, we very naturally^ and properly 
conclude that the supervision of the outward act is the 
result of the antecedent supervision of the inward princi- 
ple of the Will ; in other words, the will iias its laws. 

§ 73. Inferred also from the fact, that the subjects of a 
'moral government must he endued with adequate powers 
of obedience. 

Moral government implies, in the second place, that 
there is not only a higher or ruling power, but an inferior 
one, which may be held accountable to such higher power. 
And consequently, as all moral government has the right, 
within certain limits, of exacting obedience from those 
that are properly under its control, it follows necessarily 
that the inferiors or subjects of such government must 
possess the requisite powers of obedience; not a mere 
transitory obedience yielded for a moment, but one which 
is accordant to a prescribed course, and yielded for a 
length of time. But if the Will, which is the governing 
power over men's actions, be not subject to laws, it is self- 
evident that such a continued or protracted course of 
obedience cannot be rendered, even with the most favour- 
able dispositions on the part of those from whom it is 
due. Man is, in this case, not under the control of him- 
self; he can never tell at one moment what he may do or 
be the next ; and it is altogether inadmissible, therefore, 
to suppose that he can, by his own act, conform himself 
to the control of another. There may indeed be an 
occasional and momentary coincidence between his actions 
and the requisitions laid upon him ; but, whenever this is 
M 



134 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN 

the case, it is merely a matter of accident, and neither in 
fact nor in spirit comes up to the idea of that obedience 
which is due tcj a moral governor. In a word, if the acts 
of the Will are not based, as the occasions, at least, of 
their being called forth, upon any conditions whatever, 
and are truly contingent, man has no power to obey. 
And if he has no power of obedience, (using the term to 
mean a continued or protracted, as well as momentary 
obedience,) then he is under no obligation so to do. And 
moral government under such circumstances can never 
exist in respect to the hmuan race. 

§ 74. Laws of the loill inferred from that rationality which 
is essential to the subjects of a moral government. 

In the third place, if we look further into the element- 
ary principles of moral government, we shall find that this 
sort of administration differs from all natural or physical 
government in this respect, that its subjects are not only 
agents, but are necessarily rational agents. The attribute 
of rationality is absolutely essential to them, as accounta- 
ble and moral beings. That is to say, their actions, so 
far as they are of a moral nature, are ultimately based 
upon the perceptions of our intellectual part or under- 
standing. 

We can undoubtedly conceive of a purely sentient 
being, formed wholly of instincts, appetites, desires, and 
passions, without the intellectual endowments (at least to 
any extent worthy of especial notice) of perceiving, com- 
paring, abstracting, and reasoning. Nor is the possibility 
of such a being left wholly to imagination, since we have 
abundant instances in the brute creation around us. But 
sucb bein^, wherever they may be found, and whatever 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. 135 

purposes, more or less important, they may answer in the 
arrangements of the universe, are not the subjects of moral 
emotions and of feelings of obligation, nor are they mor- 
ally accountable. A sort of instinctive perception at 
once adjudges them incapable of that higher destiny. 
Rationality, therefore, is an incident, or, rather, prerequi- 
site of a moral natm^e. 

K man, therefore, is a rational being, which must be 
conceded as indispensable to the fact of his being in sub- 
jection to a moral government, then his actions, as has 
been stated, are ultimately based upon the perceptions of 
the understanding. And if his actions are susceptible of 
being thus based and regulated, then the operations of the 
Will may be regulated (and inust be regulated to the 
extent that the outward actions are) in the same way, 
since the outward actions have their origin in the decis- 
ions of the voluntary power. But if it be true that the 
operations of the Will are in this way connected, indi- 
rectly and ultimately at least, with the antecedent per- 
ceptions of the intellect, then they are subject to laws. 
There may indeed be, and there certainly are, emotions, 
and desires, and feelings of obligation intervening between 
the perceptions of the intellect and the acts of the Will. 
But still the latter, in all cases, strike their roots, if we 
may be allowed the expression, through the intervening 
mental elements, and thrust themselves into the intellect 
as their original basis and support. Without this, man 
could not, with propriety, be denominated a rational 
being ; and with this, he cannot, with propriety, be 
deemed a being, the acts of whose Will are in any real 
sense accidental or contingent. 



136 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN 



§ 75. Laws of the will inferred from the fact that in the 
administration of a moral government motives are em- 
ployed. 

Let it further be remembered, as a fixed principle in 
moral government, that it is sustained in its character of 
a moral government, not by the application of physical 
power, but by the presentation of motives. The fact that 
men are influenced and directed by the motives set before 
them, is an encouragement in the making of moral efforts, 
and in the use of such .means as are adapted to reclaim 
the vicious, or to strengthen habits of virtue. When men 
go astray, what can we do more in our attempts at re- 
claiming them, than apply promises, threatenings, and 
exhortations ? We address these to them as motives, ex- 
pecting that they will be received and have their influ- 
ence as such. These are the means which we employ, 
and w^^e find that they meet with success. But liberate 
the Will from all particular tendencies and law ; show 
that we are utterly unable to predict the nature of its 
acts, under all circumstances whatever, and then there is 
no encouragement to apply means for the attainment of 
moral ends ; there is no encouragement to moral efforts 
of any kind. W^hen this is the case, we can never tell 
what is suitable to be addressed to men, in order to in- 
duce them to change their course of conduct. And moral 
government, under such circumstances, cannot exist. 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. 137 



§ 76. Inferred also from the application of rewards and 
punishments. 

There is another point of view in which the subject 
may be contemplated.— Accountabihty, it will of course 
be admitted, is essentially and fundamentally involved in 
the idea of a moral government. But accountability 
implies that the person or persons who are subject to it 
may be called to an account ; and this, of course, implies 
that the being who has the right of calling them to such 
account may inflict punishment in case of delinquency. 
In other words, wherever there is accountability on the 
one part, there is the correlative right of enforcing it on 
the other ; that is to say, of punishing, if necessary. But 
if volitions are independent of motives, and are entirely 
contingent, no man can tell, as has already been intima- 
ted, at one hour or one moment what he will do the 
next ; he cannot possibly have any foresight, even of his 
owTi actions, and cannot take measures to prevent those 
which are evil. In the estimation of a right conscience, 
there would be no more propriety m punishing such a 
man's actions, than in punishing a stone or a billet of 
wood which may have accidentally been the occasion of 
some injury to us. As his Will is beyond the reach of 
all laws, there are no principles by means of which its 
exercises can be subjected, (we do not say to the power of 
others merely,) but even to his own power. He is the sport 
of an xmfathomable fortuity, a sort of football, impelled in 
every possible contrariety of direction; the ceaseless but 
imbecile plaything cf inexplicable chance. Such a man 
certainly is not the proper subject of punishment. And, 
for like reasons, he is not the proper subject of rewards. 
M2 



138 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN 



§ 11. The same inferred from the fact that the moral 
government of the 'present life is in its nature disci- 
plinary. 

And there is yet another and distinct view of that 
moral government under "which men are placed, which 
is especially worthy of notice in connexion with the sub- 
ject under consideration. The moral administration to 
which men are subject in the present life, is in its nature 
disciplinar)^ As far as man is concerned, it is not to be 
denied that the present state of 'being is incipient and 
preparatory to another and ampler field of existence. It 
is here, on the field of action where we are now placed 
m the present life, that it is proposed to train up men for 
glory, honour, and immortality. 

The present is a state of probation preparatory to this 
end. And it will be kept in mind, that it is proposed to 
secure this result by trial, exposure, exercise, training, 
discipline. But a moral regimen of this kind implies 
that there are evils to be encountered; that there are 
duties to be performed ; that there are obstacles to be 
overcome ; that there are temptations to be resisted ; and 
that men are not only to sustain their souls in patience, 
meekness, and fortitude, but to purify them in the pros- 
pect of an ultimate triumph. 

But if the Will be not subject to laws, all this is 
w^ords without meaning. It must be obvious, that there 
can be no moral trial or discipline of man without tempta- 
tion. And it is no less clear, that temptations must be ulti- 
mately addressed to the Will, or they are nothing. My 
understanding, for instance, tells me that the attainment 
of a certain object will be promotive of my present good ; 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. 139 

my desires are strongly enkindled in view of that object ; 
my conscience condemns it ; and here midoubtedly is the 
"basis, the preparatory conditions of the temptation. But 
still there must be some internal object upon which the 
temptation presses ; some principle of the mental nature 
upon which it is brought to bear. And where is this prin- 
ciple or power to be discovered around which the strength 
of the temptation thus gathers and enters into contest, if 
it be not the Will? — But if moral discipline (at least 
that of the present life) implies temptation; and if 
temptation, as it obviously does, implies a pressure upon 
the Will, then the Will must be subject to laws. For if 
it be not subject to laws, there seems to be no possible 
way in which the temptation can approach it or exert 
any influence upon it. That which is without law either 
in mind or matter, is necessarily unapproachable except 
by mere accident. 

§ 78. That the loill has laws implied in the existence of 
virtue and vice. 

Finally, if the Will is truly contingent in its action 
and entirely without laws, it cannot fail to follow that 
there is no tenable foundation of virtue and vice. — It is 
a common maxim, founded on the general experience, 
and universally held to be true, that actions are reprehen- 
sible or otherwise, according to the designs, intentions, or 
motives with which they originated. But if the acts of 
the Will are perfectly contingent, (that is to say, are put 
forth mthout a regard to an}d;hing else whatever,) then 
it is obvious that designs or motives, considered in ref- 
erence to such acts, are entirely excluded, and have no 
existence. It is evident that a man in that case can 



140 LAWS OF THE WILL mPLIED IN 

justly say of any action he perforins, which is deemed by 
the community either virtuous or vicious, that it happen- 
ed merely because it did happen ; that it came to pass 
without any forethought, or intention, or design on his 
part ; that he knows of no rational cause of its origin ; 
and, in a word, that it is truly and w^hoUy accidental. 
And is such a man, of whose actions these statements 
are undeniably true, to be either blamed or commended 1 
Where is the basis, in his actions or his character, of 
either morality or immorality ? Is he not beyond the 
reach, in every respect, of virtue and vice ? 

No one can be ignorant that, when a man is arraigned 
on any accusation, one of the first inquiries is in respect to 
his designs or motives in perpetrating the alleged crimi- 
nal act. By the law of the land, if a man has put 
another to death with malice aforethought, (that is, with 
an evil design, or intention of so doing,) it is murder ; if 
the deed is committed in the violence of momentary 
passion, without any premeditated purpose, it becomes 
the diminished crime of manslaughter ; if it be what is 
called accidental, or, in other words, without any hostile 
feeling, and without in the least intending or expecting 
the result which followed, then it is no crime at all. 
And so, on the other hand, if a man performs a highly 
beneficial action, with the view and the intention of 
doing good, all men agree in pronouncing it virtuous and 
praiseworthy ; but if they discover the action to be 
wholly accidental, they equally agree in denying to its 
author any claims to moral merit and coromendation. In 
a word, the circumstance of an action's being accidental 
is understood to destroy its moral character. But what 
is the true idea or characteristic of an accident? It is 
evidently that which has no cause, no reason, no refer- 



MOKAL GOVERNMENT. 141 

ence to any fixed principle. And every voluntary act, 
on the supposition of the Will's not being subjected to 
law, is precisely conformed to this view. Every such 
volition is truly an accident. And, as such, the common 
consent of mankind would deny to it, both in itself and 
its results, the possession of any moral character what- 
ever. 

It would not be difficult to point out passages in wri- 
ters of acknowledged value, going to confirm the various 
views of this chapter. On the subject of the present 
section. President Edwards expresses himself in the fol- 
lowing decided language. — " If it should be allowed that 
there are some instances wherein the soul chooses with- 
out any motive, what virtue can there be in such a 
choice ? I am sure there is no prudence or wisdom in 
it. Such a choice is made for no good end ; for it is for 
no end at all. If it were for any end, the view of the 
end would be the motive exciting to the act ; and if the 
act be for no good end, and so from no good aim, then 
there is no good intention in it : and therefore, accord- 
ing to all our natural notions of virtue, no more virtue in 
it than in the motion of the smoke which is driven to 
and fro by the wind, without any aim or end in the thing- 
moved, and which knows not whither, nor why and 
wherefore, it is moved."* 

* Edwards's Inquiry into the Will, part iii., ^ vii. 



142 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 



CHAPTER ni. 

LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORE- 
SIGHT OF THE DEITY. 

§ 79. The notion which men naturally form of the Deity 
implies foreknowledge. 

In proof of the general proposition, that the Will has 
its LAWS, we now enter upon a distinct train of thought. 
In the present chapter we propose to bring forward in its 
support the Prescience of the Deity. And, accordingly, 
it will be necessary to say something in support of the 
fact, that there is such prescience, or, in other words, that 
God foreknows whatever comes to pass. We do not, 
however, propose to enter at length into this specific 
topic ; for the general acquiescence in the proposition of 
God's foreknowledge renders it unnecessary ; but merely 
to suggest in relation to it one or two considerations. 

And we naturally remark, in the first place, that the 
idea which all men agree in forming of the Deity im- 
plies foreknowledge. We say nothing here of the light 
which Revelation throws upon this subject; but refer 
merely to the notion of the Deity which men form them- 
selves. The basis of this paramount idea is abundantly 
laid in the human constitution. We do not undertake to 
say it is innate, in the sense in which that term has been 
commonly understood ; but merely assert that the human 
mind is so constituted, and is operated upon by such in- 
fluences, that the idea of God arises in it naturally and 



PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 143 

certainly, unless there are some peculiar circumstances 
counteracting tliis tendency. Hence we find, in all coun- 
tries and among all classes of men ; in the cheerless hut of 
the Esquimaux ; in the rude dwellings of the uncivilized 
tribes inhabiting the islands of the Pacific ; in the tent of 
the vagrant Arab, as well as among those who are refined 
by the arts and enlightened by science, the notion of a 
God. The conception may indeed be a feeble and im- 
perfect one, compared with that developed in the Scrip- 
tures ; but, feeble as it is, it always includes the idea of 
prescience or foresight in a much higher degree than is 
possessed by men. The very heathen would scoff at the 
idea of a God, whose knowledge is limited to the present 
moment. 

§ 80. The prescience of God involved and implied in his 
omniscience. 

But we are not left, in the consideration of this sub- 
ject, to the suggestions which are furnished by an exam- 
ination of the opinions of men, however naturally they 
may have arisen, or however widely prevailed. God has 
seen fit, in the exercise of his great mercy, to speak by 
his Revealed Word, and to pour the light of inspiration 
on the dim and uncertain light of human reason. He has 
declared himself to possess all knowledge. He who is 
familiar with the Bible cannot fail to recollect many pas- 
sages where this great truth appears. The hundred and 
thirty-ninth Psalm, one of the most strildng and beauti- 
ful in that exceedingly interesting collection of sacred 
poetiy, turns almost exclusively upon the great and won- 
derful knowledge of God. " Thou knowest my down- 
sitting and mine uprising; thou understandest my thoughts 



144 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down 
and art acquainted "with all my ways," The Psalmist i? 
another place, after asserting the greatness of the Lore 
and of his power, immediately adds, that " his under 
standing is injimte.^' In another passage of the Psalm 
of great sublimity, God is introduced as saying, " I kno\\ 
all the fowls of the mountains, and the wild beasts of the 
field are mine ;" expressions which convey a sentiment 
parallel to that of the New Testament, in the passages 
where it is asserted that not a sparrow falls without the 
notice of God, and that the hairs of our head are num- 
bered. " Neither is there any creature," says the Apos- 
tle, " that is not manifest in His sight ; but all things are 
naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom we 
have to do." The beloved disciple says, " God is greater 
than our heart, and knoweth all things."* 

But if God is omniscient, which is clearly implied or 
asserted in these and many other passages, it follows, of 
course, that he is able to foresee events, whatever they 
may be, which shall come to pass in future times. 

And let it be remembered here, that God does not 
have a knowledge of things in precisely the same way 
as men have, viz., in succession, or as they arise before 
the mind's eye one after another ; but, on the contrary, 
it seems rather to be the fact, that all the knowledge He 
possesses, whether more or less, exists in the perception 
of his mind simultaneously ; it is all taken in and con- 
templated at one view. With Him there is neither be- 
ginning of days nor end of years ; no present, past, nor 
future. And hence, if we strike off from the great circle 
of his knowledge that part or section which we, in con- 
sequence of our limited views, denominate the futm'e, his 
* Ps. cxlvii., 5 ; 1., 10. Heb. iv., 13. First Epis. of John, iii., 20. 



PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 145 

omniscience is at once shorn of the attribute of perfec- 
tion, and is presented before us in a state of deformity 
and mutilation. And, accordingly, we assert that the 
omniscience of God, a truth so obvious to reason and so 
abundantly taught in the Scriptures, implies the doctrine 
of prescience, (or, at least, what men, adopting their lan- 
guage to their own modes of perception, call prescience,) 
and that he has a clear knowledge of all future events. 

§ 81. The 'prescience of God directly taught in the 

Scriptures. 

The divine prescience or foresight is not only implied 
in the omniscience of God, as that attribute is made 
known in the Scriptures, but is itself separately and dis- 
tinctly made known in a multitude of passages. The 
Supreme Being himself, in the language ascribed to Him 
by the prophet Isaiah, asserts, " I am God, and there is 
none like me, declaring the end from the beginning, and 
from ancient times the things that are not yet done." 
" Known unto God," says the Apostle James, " are all 
his works, yrom the beginning of the world."* 

Nor does the doctrine of God's foreknowledge rest 
upon general statements alone ; but we have instances, 
again and again, of predictions, uttered long before the 
events came to pass, which were strictly fulfilled. The 
deluge was predicted one hundred and twenty years be- 
fore it came on the face of the earth. It was foretold 
that the children of Israel should be in bondage four 
hundred years. The cruel conduct of the Syrian Hazael, 
and the deliverance wrought out by the hand of the Per- 
sian Cyrus, are matters of precise and specific prediction 

* Isaiah xlvi., 9, 10. Acts xv., 18. 

N 



146 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

The destruction of Babylon and of Nineveh, v, \th many 
of the circumstances attending their overthrow, was pre- 
dicted also. The coming and the preaching of Jesus 
■^^hrist, and particularly his humiliation, trials, and death, 
were foretold by the mouths of holy men many years, 
and even ages, before the events themselves took place. 
The destruction of Jerusalem (not to mention other in- 
stances equally decisive in their bearing on this subject) 
was depicted long before it happened, and with a won- 
derful particularity and vividness. — ^In view of these facts, 
and others like them, we have only to make the remark, 
and we do it with full confidence in its correctness, that 
predictions so numerous and specific, and so exactly ful- 
filled, could not have been uttered without the possession 
of foreknowledge or prescience on the part of their 
author. 

§ 82. The foreknowledge of events imiplies the foreknowl- 
edge of volitions. 

And it is further to be noticed, in regard to many, if 
not all, the events which have taken place in accordance 
with such predictions as those referred to in the last sec- 
tion, that they were dependent on the volitions of men. 
The voluntary actions of men necessarily imply the ante- 
cedent exercise of volitions ; and it is impossible that any 
being whatever should foresee the actions without a fore- 
sight, at the same time, of their volitions. As an illus- 
tration, it was foretold to Abraham that his descendants 
should go into Egypt, and should take up their residence 
there ; but such a prediction evidently implies a knowl- 
edge of all the circmustances under which this event 
should take place, including, in particular, every motive 



PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 147 

and every volition connected with it. Such a prediction 
implies a knowledge, not only of the volitions and acts 
of the immediate agents in the events foretold, but of 
those persons also who were concerned in them incident- 
ally and collaterally. In the present case, it implies a 
knowledge of the jealousies of Joseph's brethren, and of 
their perverse and wicked conduct in selling him to the 
Ishmaelites ; it implies a knowledge of the wants, inter- 
ests, and motives of the Ishmaelites themselves ; not to 
mention the situation and motives of other individuals 
and bodies of men, which were undoubtedly among the 
preparatory steps and means to the wonderful events 
which followed. 

Every one knows, that events of the greatest magni- 
tude are dependent upon circmnstances apparently the 
most trivial. It is a remark of Dr. Dwight, that the 
" motions of a fly are capable of terminating the most 
important human life, or of changing all the future de- 
signs of a man, and altering the character, circmnstances, 
and destiny of his descendants throughout time and eter- 
nity."* Now, if these things are so, it cannot for a mo- 
ment be conceded that God foreknows and predicts 
events without a knowledge of all those circumstances, 
even the most trivial, upon which those events may, by 
any possibility, be dependent. In particular, and above 
all. He must be minutely and fully acquainted with the 
vohtive acts or volitions of the immediate agents in them. 
In foreseeing events in which men are concerned, He 
must, of course, foresee what men will do ; but it is incon- 
ceivable that he should know this without knowing what 
volitions they will put forth. 

* Dwight's Theology, Sermon vi. 



148 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 



§ 83. Of the reasonableness of the foregoing views. 

These views, in regard to the extent and particularity 
of God's foreknowledge, commend themselves at once to 
the common sense and feelings of men. It would be of 
but little avail to extol God as the Creator of all worlds 
and all beings, if he could not foresee what w^ould be the 
result of their creation ; if he could not tell whether their 
existence would be beneficial or injurious to themselves 
or others. Existence is known, not only from what it is 
in itself, but from its issues. And if God has no foresight 
of the results of his works. He creates he knows not what ; 
and if He is ignorant of his own works, no other being 
can be supposed to have knowledge of them. Would 
such a God, supposing him to be truly and fully the Crea- 
tor of all things, be able to hold the reins of government 
over the things He had made 1 Would he not be contin- 
ually perplexed, and compelled, at every turn in the af- 
fairs of the Universe, to alter his plans ? Certain it is, 
that the doctrine which denies the full and perfect pres- 
cience of the Deity greatly degrades Him. It leaves 
Him at the mercy, as it were, of the most trifling circum- 
stances. The movement of a single atom (as it is possi- 
ble, even for a matter so trivial as that, to alter the des- 
tiny of a world) might perplex His wisest purposes and 
defeat his most benevolent plans. 

§ 84. Jlpplication of these views to the ivill. 

But if it satisfactorily appears that God foreknows all 
things, particularly the volitions of men, then it clearly 
follows that the volitive power or Will has its laws. The 



PRESCIENCE OF THE DEITY. 149 

opposite of a subjection to law, as has already been re- 
marked, is perfect contingency ; and the very idea of 
contingency or of contingent action implies that it is 
something which cannot possibly be foreknown. What- 
ever is foreknown must be foreknown to exist at a partic- 
ular time or place, or under some particular circumstances; 
but that action or event, which it is ascertained and cer- 
tain will exist at a particular time or place, or under any 
particular and definite circumstances, cannot, with any 
propriety of language, be deemed a contingent one. 
Since, therefore, nothing which is foreknown is contin- 
gent, and since the volitions of men are obviously the sub- 
jects of foreknowledge, it follows that there must be 
some definite laws or principles by which the action of 
the voluntary or volitive power is regulated. 

§ 85. The views of this chapter in harmony with the 
doctrine of the influences of the Holy Spirit. 

As in some respects closely connected with the views 
of this chapter, we may here, with propriety, refer to the 
Scripture doctrine that God, through the influences of the 
Holy Spirit, has the power, and, when in his providence 
he sees fit, exerts the power, of enlightening, sanctif}dng, 
and guiding the minds of men. The reader of the Bible 
will naturally be reminded here of the Saviour's interest- 
ing expressions on this subject, which are found in the 
concluding chapters of the Gospel of John. — " I will pray 
the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that 
he may abide with you for ever." " And the Comforter, 
which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in 
my name. He shall teach you all things, and bring all 
things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto 
N2 



150 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

• you." John xiv,, 16, 26. — " So they, being sent forth by 
the Holy Ghost, departed unto Seleucia." — " Then Saul, 
who is also called Paul, filled with the Holy Ghost, set 
his eyes upon him, and said. Oh full of all subtlety," &c. — 
" And were forbidden of the Holy Ghost to preach the 
word in Asia." Acts xiii., 4, 9; xvi., 6. — " Which things 
also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom 
teacheth, but w^hich the Holy Ghost teacheth." 1 Cor. ii., 
13. — " Holy men of God spake as they were moved by 
the Holy Ghost." 2 Pet. i., 21. 

All these passages, and others like them, necessarily 
and clearly imply, although there is no doubt of the fact 
of man's moral and religious rebellion, that the human 
mind, nevertheless, is circumscribed and overruled in its 
operations to some extent, and is still held in subordina- 
tion to the all-pervading and transcendent control of the 
Supreme Intelligence. 



CHAPTER IV. 

LAWS OF THE AVILL IMPLIED IN THE PRESCIENCE OR FORE- 
SIGHT OF MEN. 

§ 86. Man as well as Deity susceptible of foresight. 

It may, perhaps, be objected by some, that the argu- 
ment drawn from the prescience of the Deity is less sat- 
isfactory than it would otherwise be, in consequence of 
the unspeakable elevation and incomprehensibleness of 
the Divine Mind. That the divine mind is, in some re- 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 151 

spects, incomprehensible by man, is true ; but it does not 
follow that an argument, founded upon what we know 
and can understand of the divine nature, is therefore in- 
comprehensible or even obscure. But whatever weight, 
whether more or less, may be conceded to this objection, 
we come to another view of the subject, analogous indeed 
to that of the last chapter, but drawn from a different 
source, and level to every one's comprehension. Man 
himself, restricted and dimmed as his conceptions un- 
doubtedly are, has a prescience of the future, a foresight 
of what is to come to pass, as well as the adorable Being 
who made him. Not in an equal degree indeed, but still 
in some degree. And this fact also goes to confirm the 
position which we are now examining in regard to the 
WiU. 



^ 87. Prescience or foresight of men in respect to their 
otvn situation and conduct. 

in the first place, man can foretell (we do not say with 
perfect certainty, nor is that at all essential to om* argu- 
ment) his own situation, actions, and success at some fu- 
ture time. 

Take a very simple illusti'ation. A man proposes to 
go to Boston or New-York, or to some place of common 
resort, no matter where it is, for the purpose of ti-ansact- 
ino; business there. The execution of a desisrn of this 
nature, although it is difficult to mention one more com- 
mon and sunple, implies the putting forth of hundreds 
and thousands of ^^olitions. And it is undoubtedly the 
fact, that the object in view cannot be effected without 
this great nmnber of volitions. And yet we perceive that 
this persr^n goes forward with confidence, and . that he 



152 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

makes his calculations without fear, and with a feeling of 
certainty that he will be able to execute them. He evi- 
dently proceeds upon the supposition (although he may 
not be fully conscious of it at the time, and may never 
have made it a matter of distinct reflection) that the 
operations of the Will exist in reference to some fixed 
principles ; and particularly in connexion with motives in 
their various kinds and degrees. And looking at his pro- 
posed xmdertaking with care, and understanding well 
the claims, both of interest and duty, which are involved 
in it, he determines or wills in reference to the general 
plan before him, whatever it may be, without even doubt- 
ing that all the future acts of the voluntary power will be 
accordant with its requisite details ; and that, in due sea- 
son, it will be brought to a fulfilment in all its parts. But 
we may assert with confidence, that this could never be 
done if volitions were entirely contingent ; in other words, 
if they were without laws. For if this last were the case, 
he would be just as likely to go to Providence as Boston, 
to Albany as New-York, or to any other place what- 
ever, as to that where he first determined to go; and 
would be just as likely to do the direct opposite as that 
particular business which he designed to accomplish at 
his first setting out. — And the views, applicable in this 
particular case, will apply to the multiplied occurrences 
and duties of every week and day. And they furnish of 
themselves, and independently of every other argument 
which may be brought up, but little short of a demonstra- 
tion of what we are attempting to establish. 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 153 



§ 88. Foresight of men in respect to the conduct of others. 

In the second place, men are able to foretell, with a 
considerable degree of certainty, the situation, actions, 
and success of others at some future time. This is so no- 
torious as not unfrequently to have elicited the remark, 
that there is a certain regular order in the conduct of 
men, in some degree analogous to the regular course of 
things, which we never fail to observe in the physical 
world. Men may everywhere be found who would no 
more hesitate to predict the precise conduct of their neigh- 
bours in certain assignable circumstances, than they would 
to predict that trees of a certain kind would grow in a 
given situation. 

Some instances will illustrate what we mean. — A poor 
man goes to a rich man in the same neighbourhood, who 
is a confirmed and inexorable miser, for the purpose of 
borrowing a sum of money, but v^dthout being willing to 
give the customary interest of twenty per cent., and un- 
able at the same time to furnish adequate security for the 
principal. Everybody knows that the miser will refuse 
his money at once. They expect and predict it with 
hardly less confidence than they predict, that a stone 
thi'own into the air will immediately fall to the earth's 
surface. " A prisoner," says Mr. Hume, " who has nei- 
ther money nor interest, discovers the impossibility of es- 
cape, as well when he considers the obstinacy of his 
o-uards as the walls and bars with w^hich he is surround- 

o 

ed; and in all his attempts for his freedom, chooses 
rather to work upon the stone and iron of the one, than 
upon the inflexible nature of the other." This remark of 
Mr. Hume is an important one, and, without question, is 



154 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

essentially correct. Undoubtedly it is sometimes the case, 
that prisoners endeavour to effect their escape by working 
upon the passions and will of their guards ; but in a vast 
majority of cases they consider their chance of escape much 
better by means of attempts made upon the stone and iron 
that enclose them. They understand so well the connex- 
ion between motive and volition, between interest and 
duty on the one hand and the resolves of the wt.11 on the 
other, that, with the knowledge they possess of the char- 
acters and situation of those who are appointed to act as 
their guards, they consider their escape by means of any 
collusion with them, or any assistance from that source, 
as an utter impossibility.* 

§ 89. Other familiar instances of this foresight. 

But we will now proceed to give some instances which 
are less remote from common observation. The reader 
may perhaps recollect some remarks of Dr. Paley, relative 
to our constant dependence on our fellow-men. " Every 
hour of our lives we trust and depend upon others ; and it 
is impossible to stir a step, or, what is worse, to sit still a 
moment, Avithout such trust and dependence. I am now 
writing at my ease, not doubting (or, rather, never distrust- 
ing, and, therefore, never thinking about it) but that the 
butcher will send in the joint of meat which I ordered ; 

* Expressions very similar to those of Mr. Hume, and certainly not 
less strong in their import, are found in a Treatise of Lord Karnes, (Princi- 
ples of Morality, pt. i., Essay iii.,) and also in the recent work of Dr. 
Abercrombie on the Moral Feelings, part ii. — "We can foretell," says 
the last-mentioned writer, " the respective effects which a tale of distress 
will have upon a cold-hearted miser and a man of active benevolence, 
with the same confidence with which we can predict the different ac- 
tions of ?.cid upon an alkali and upon a metal." 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 155 

that his servant will bring it ; that my cook will dress it ; 
that my footman will serve it up ; and that I shall find it 
on the table at one o'clock."* — And this is a state of 
things which is constantly occurring, not only in the mat- 
ter of the daily food necessary for the support of our lives, 
but in a thousand other instances. The merchant de- 
pends upon his clerks ; the manufacturer upon his numer- 
ous operatives of all classes and conditions ; the farmer, 
who works upon a large scale, depends upon the hands 
of others as much as he does upon the labour of his own 
hands; the commander of a vessel constantly reckons 
upon the efficient co-operation of his sailors; the leader 
of armies relies upon the movements of vast bodies of 
men made with the utmost precision in the most trying 
circumstances. And it is the same in all situations, and 
among all classes of men, as any one, who will in the 
least trouble himself to exercise his recollection, will be 
abimdantly satisfied. But if all these persons .operated 
by mere accident, and ^\dthout regard to any fixed princi- 
ples ; if it were a matter of entire contingency whether 
they should perform their engagements or not, it is easy 
to see that all the sources of enjoyment and even of exist- 
ence w^ould be destroyed, and the foundations of society 
speedily broken up. 

§ 90. The fact of laws of the will shovmfrom the regu- 
larity of voluntary contrihutions and of deposites. 

In connexion with the topic now before us, viz., that 
we are able to foretell, vdth a considerable degree of cer- 
tainty, the situation and actions of others at some fiitm'e 
time, we request the attention of the reader to a class of 

" Moral Philosophy, book iii , chap. v. 



156 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

facts which are somewhat pecuhar. It cannot have 
escaped the notice of any one as in some degree a char- 
acteristic of modern times, that there are a multitude of 
benevolent associations, whose receipts depend wholly 
upon voluntary contributions. But, notwithstanding the 
fact of their income being wholly voluntary, which, if ex- 
perience had not shown to the contrary, would be exceed- 
ingly discouraging, they proceed in their affairs with 
nearly or quite the same confidence as if they had a fixed 
capital to operate wdth. They send out missionaries, 
establish schools, translate the Scriptures, explore im- 
known and barbarous countries, plant colonies, erect 
churches, and engage in other important and expensive 
undertakings, without a cent of money except what comes 
from voluntary gifts. They make their calculations be- 
forehand as to what they can accomplish in a given time j 
and not unfrequently incur heavy expenses in anticipation 
of their receipts. Their true capital is a knowledge of 
the operations of the human mind under certain assigna- 
ble circxmistances. These circumstances they are in a 
good degree acquainted with ; and hence are enabled to 
anticipate the amount of their receipts for a given time 
with almost as much accuracy as the merchant or farmer, 
who has an actual capital already in his possession to 
operate with. Does not this circumstance go, with others, 
to show that the Will has its laws 1 

Without enlarging further upon this topic, we merely 
observe, that it reminds us of another interesting fad 
somewhat analogous to this. It is, that banks issue bills 
and lend money upon their deposites, and often to a great 
amoimt. They take this course as they believe, and as 
they have undoubted reason to believe, with almost entire 
safety. By observation, they ascertain that their custom- 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 157 

ers, (although the abihty of their customers to do it evi- 
dently depends on a thousand apparent contingencies,) 
deposite a certain amount, or nearly so, Avithin a given 
time. They find, as a general thing, that the variation in 
the amount received in specified times is not greater than 
the variation of the receipts of an individual who is 
largely engaged in business. And they consider this 
state of things basis enough for very extended transac- 
tions. But could this, or anything else of the same kind, 
possibly be, if the Will were wholly exempt from every- 
thing having the nature of definite or fixed principles of 
action? 



§ 91. Of sagacity in the estimate of individual character. 

We now proceed to introduce to the consideration of 
the reader another view of the subject of this chapter, 
which is exceedingly interesting in itself, besides fm-nish- 
ing an argument deserving of some attention. It is not 
uncommon to find men who exhibit a sort of quickness 
or sagacity in the estimate of individual character, which 
is sometimes described by the phrase, a knoioledge of the 
world, or of human nature. This knowledge is undoubt- 
edly possessed by all persons to some extent ; but not im- 
frequently individuals are found who possess it in a re- 
markably high degree. In some men it may be said not 
only to assume the appearance, but even to approximate 
the natiu'e of a prophetic anticipation or foresight ; and 
when this is the case, it is an acquisition, as no one can be 
ignorant, of great power and value. The late Mr. Du- 
mont, of Geneva, in his Recollections of Mirabeau, has 
noticed this ability in one of its more striking forms. — 
Speaking of the political life of that celebrated man, 





158 LAWS OF THE WILL UVIPLIED IN THE 

especially in its connexion with his knowledge of men 
and his political foresight, he goes on to say, " It was 
by the same instinctive penetration that Mirabeau so 
easily detected the feelings of the Assembly, and so often 
embarrassed his opponents by revealing their secret mo- 
tives, and laying open that which they were most anxious 
to conceal. There seemed to exist no political enigma 
which he could not solve. He came at once to the most 
intimate secrets, and his sagacity alone was of more use 
to him than a multitude of spies in the enemy's camp. I 
used sometimes to attribute the severity of his judgments 
to hatred or jealousy, but it has been justified by succeed- 
ing events, and there w^as not a man of any consequence 
in the Assembly, the sum of whose conduct did not cor- 
respond with the opinion w^hich Mirabeau had formed of 
Mm. 

" Independently of this natural gift, this intellect of 
penetration, his life had been so agitated, he had been so 
tossed upon the sea of hmnan existence, as he used to say, 
that he had acquired vast experience of the world and of 
men. He detected, in a moment, every shade of charac- 
ter ; and, to express the result of his observations, he had 
invented a language scarcely intelligible to any but him- 
self; had terms to indicate fractions of talents, qualities, 
virtues, or vices — -halves and quarters — and, at a glance, 
he could perceive every real or apparent contradiction. 
No form of vanity, disguised ambition, or tortuous pro- 
ceedings could escape his penetration ; but he could also 
perceive good qualities, and no man had a higher esteem 
for energetic and virtuous characters."* 

It cannot be necessary to add anything to show how 
this instance, and others like it, (for the political history 

* Dumont's Recollections of Mirabeau, chap. xiv. 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 169 

of every age brings to light some men of this stamp,) 
connects itself with and illustrates om- subject. 

§ 92. Foresight of the conduct of masses of men and 
natio'ns. 

It is not too much to say that we are able, not only to 
predict with a considerable degree of certainty the con- 
duct of individuals in any given circmnstances, but we 
may do the same of whole classes of men, and even na- 
tions. Hence the remark which Lord Bacon has some- 
where made, and which is strikingly characterized by its 
poetical as well as its philosophical spirit. " The shep- 
herds of the people," .he says, " should understand the 
prognostics of state tempests ; hollow blasts of wind seem- 
ingly at a distance, and secret swellings of the sea, often 
precede a storm." 

But we may carry this view into some particulars 
which are deserving of notice. The results, for instance, 
of a popular election, if certain data are ascertained, are 
often considered as settled, even before the day of voting 
has arrived ; although the conclusions thus formed are 
based in part upon opinions relative to whole classes of 
men, who differ from each other in their callings, inter- 
ests, and prejudices. 

Again, the speculations in the public or national stocks 
are veiy frequently prompted by the opinions, which those 
who are engaged in such speculations are able to form 
of the com'se which states and nations will take in some 
future time. 

One of the most striking facts, involving the foresight 
or prescience of the conduct of large masses of men, is 
the financial estimate which is annually made by govern- 



160 LAWS OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN THE 

ments. It is well known that the amount of property 
invested in commerce, with the annual returns of revenue 
to the government, is every year estimated in advance, 
and with very considerable accuracy, by the treasury de- 
partments of all civilized nations. 

Reasoning from what has taken place in times past, 
we may predict, with a good degree of accuracy, what 
number of letters wall be written and circulated through 
a nation at any future time. The nmnber of letters is 
indicated by the amount of postage ; and this is a matter 
which the governments of nations have thought it impor- 
tant to them to ascertain. If a person will take the pains 
to examine the total receipts of the Postoffice Department 
of the United States, in the successive years from 1790 to 
1830, he will notice, with but few exceptions, and those 
easily explained, a gradual and very regular increase in 
the amount ; the increase being such as would naturally 
be expected from the augmentation of the wealth and 
population of the country. 

It would seem, in looking at the statistical tables for 
this purpose, that in the year 1815 there was an increase 
decidedly greater than would be naturally expected in 
ordinary circumstances. But this w^as probably owing 
(and equally satisfactory reasons will be found for other 
equally marked variations) to the recent return of peace 
with Great Britain, which at once gave a new and ex- 
panded impulse to the business transactions of the coun- 
try- 

We presume it will be found also on inquiry, that the 
number of letters not taken from the subordinate offices, 
and returned from time to time to the General Postoffice, 
or DEAD LETTERS SO Called, is nearly the same from year 
to year, or varying so as to correspond to the variation in 



PRESCIENCE OR FORESIGHT OF MEN. 161 

the number of letters received. It is stated by Laplace, 
that the number of dead letters remaining at and retm-n- 
ed from other offices to the Postoffice at Paris is, in or- 
dinary times, nearly the same from one year to another. 
The same thing has been stated of the Dead Letter Office, 
as it is called, in London.* — All these things conclusively 
evince that the actions of men, vi^hether considered indi- 
vidually or in masses, are not left to chance or mere ac- 
cident. 

§ 93. Proof from the regularity observable in the com- 
mission of crime. 

The Statistics of crime, (a painful but very interesting 
and important view of human nature,) as well as all 
other statistical views which are based upon the occupa- 
tions and conduct of men, throw light upon this subject. 
The reader will find valuable information on this- matter, 
besides other sources of information which are constantly 
multiplying, in the Annual Reports of the American Dis- 
cipline Society, in the article on the Statistics of Crime 
in the Encyclopaedia Americana, in the Report of Messrs. 
Beaumont and Toqueville on the Penitentiary System in 
the United States, and particularly in the valuable work 
of M. Guerry, entitled, Essai sur la Statistiqiie Morale de 
la France. 

It appears from the class of works which have now 
been specified, that, under certain circumstances, there is 
in human nature an unquestionable disposition or tenden- 
cy to crime, to a certain extent. And this tendency is 
found, by a comparison of the facts which are furnished 
us in the statistical tables of crime, to be so definite and 

* Edinburgh Review, vol. xxiii. 

O 2 



162 LAWS OF THE WILL 

certain in its results, that one may predict at the begin- 
ning of each year what number will be brought before 
the criminal tribunals ; what number will be acquitted ; 
what number will be condemned to death ; the number 
condemned to hard labour for life or for a term of years ; 
the number condemned to solitary imprisonment; and 
many things of this kind. And this can be done with a 
great degree of accm'acy and certainty ; probably with 
greater certainty than the Treasury Departments of na- 
tions can make their annual estimate of the national in- 
come and expenditure. 

From the statistical tables of crune in France, it ap- 
pears that about one in every fom* thousand and four 
hundred of the inhabitants is arraigned at a criminal tri- 
bunal. Of the persons thus arraigned, one out of every 
four, or very nearly in that proportion, is accused of a 
crime against persons ; the others of crimes against prop- 
erty. Out of one hundred accused, about sixty-one will 
be regularly found guilty. The number of murders and 
manslaughters in France (and a similar statement would 
undoubtedly, on examination, be found true of other 
countries) mil be found to be nearly the same from year 
to year. In 1826, it w^as 610; in 1827, it w^as 556; in 
1828, it amounted to 520 ; in 1829, to 528 ; in the years 
1830, 1831, and 1832 respectively, to 469, 605, and 641. 

It will appear also from these inquiries, that not only 
the murders and manslaughters will be nearly the same 
every year during a number of successive years, but also 
that the particular methods and instruments of crime, 
such as the musket, the knife, or poisoning, will be nearly 
the same from year to year. Thus the number of deaths 
in France by poisoning in the year 1826, was 26 ; m the 
year 1827, it was 34 ; in 1828, the number amounted to 



INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 163 

43; in 1829, to 47; in the years 1830, 1831, and 1832 
respectively, it amounted to 37, 36, and 27. 

If statistical tables should be made of every art, de- 
partment, and calling in life of farmers, shoemakers, tai- 
lors, merchants, blacksmiths, students, preachers, and all 
other classes, similar results would be exhibited. That is 
to say, we could very nearly tell, scores of years, or even 
centuries beforehand, in a given place and under certain 
given circumstances, what number would till the ground, 
or smite the anvil, or practise the arts of commerce, or 
pursue other occupations. — It will be noticed that this 
view of the subject in particular cannot be charged with 
being merely speculative or conjectural. And the bear- 
ing of it upon the structure of the human mind, particu- 
larly upon that department of the mind which is now 
under consideration, will readily suggest itself to the 
reader. 



CHAPTER V. 

LAWS OF THE AVILL INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 

§ 94. The doctrine of the loiWs subjection to law con- 
Jirmed by consciousness. 

We proceed now to other views of this interesting sub- 
ject, which place it ma new and somewhat more defi- 
nite and specific aspect. If we examine with suitable 
caution, we shall find that laws of the Will are clearly 
involved in its own nature. — But, before proceeding to 
explain the import and to show the truth of this proposi- 



164 LAWS OF THE WILL 

tion, we have one remark to make here, viz., that the 
doctrine of the will's being subject to law is, as seems to 
us, confirmed by our Consciousness. Certain it is, we all 
of us have the testimony of our inw^ard experience, that 
there is a relation, whatever may be its nature, and how- 
ever difficult of explanation, between volition and mo- 
tives. As a general statement, (for we do not here 
speak of those actions which, in consequence of being 
frequently repeated, have become almost mechanical, nor 
of those w^hich are entirely trifling and insignificant,) no 
man is conscious of a volition who is not also conscious 
of a knowledge of some antecedent which constitutes the 
occasion, motive, or cause of the subsequent volition. 
And if so, then the testimony of consciousness may prop- 
erly be adduced in support of the general position which 
we are endeavouring to maintain. 

§ 95. The same conjirmed hy the fact of the wilPs not 
being a subject, but an attribute. 

But returning to the specific subject of this chapter, 
viz., that laws of the will are involved in its own nature, 
we proceed to remark, that the faculty of the Will is not 
a distinct entity by itself, but rather an incident to, or an 
appurtenance of, something else ; in other words, it is not 
the subject, which might more reasonably put forth claims 
of independence, but sustains the subordinate relation of 
an attribute. As the Will is evidently only one of the 
many attributes of that distinct and organized existence 
which we denominate the soul or mind, it is necessarily 
subjected to all the conditions implied in that relation. 
If the Will, in its ordinary conditions, is not only free, (a 
truth which is readily and fully conceded,) but is capable 



INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 165 

also of a perfectly contingent action ; if it be not only 
independent of compulsion, but independent also of all 
regulative oversight and control ; if no principles what- 
ever pervade its varieties of action, and secure to them 
something like symmetry and order ; then, so far as we 
have an understanding in the matter, it is obviously not 
merely an attiibute or part of that whole which we vari- 
ously denominate the mind or soul, but must be regarded 
as a distinct existence by itself But if it be othermse, 
and the Will is truly an attribute, as it midoubtedly is, 
then, like every other attribute, it is necessarily subordi- 
nate to the fundamental conditions of that existence or 
entity to which- it belongs ; and, from the nature of the 
case, cannot sustain the claims which have sometimes 
been set up for it, to a wholly irresponsible and indepen- 
dent action. 

§ 96. The same confrmed by the fact, that every exercise 
of the Will implies an object. 

We may further argue the matter under consideration 
by a reference to the nature of the exercises of the will 
or volitions. If we rightly understand the subject, the 
very idea of volition implies some antecedent object. In 
other words, it is a condition or law of the Will's action, 
that it cannot jJut forth a volition except in reference to 
some object. It is perfectly obvious, in any given case, 
that there can be no determining upon it without some- 
thing which is determined ; no resolving without some- 
thing resolved on; but as these are only other names 
for willing or volition, it is equally obvious that there can 
be no volition without an object towards which the act 
of the Will is directed. It is the same here as it is with 



166 XAWS OF THE "WILL 

the memory, desire, association, and the like. There can 
be no act of the memory ^vithout something which is re- 
membered; no act of the desire without something 
which is desired ; no act of association Avdthout some 
subject or object to which the principle of association at- 
taches itself. But if, by universal admission, it would be 
altogether absurd to speak of remembrance, desire, and 
association Avithout some object towards which they are 
directed or upon which they can operate, it would seem 
clearly to follow that volition without an object is no less 
an absurdity. It is something impossible ; something 
not admitted by the nature of the mind itself. 

But if volition has in all cases an object, it cannot 
well be denied that its action is in all cases subjected to 
some law. This object, without which volition cannot 
exist, is, of course, a condition of its existence. And it is 
evident that everything which is a condition of action, 
is in some sense (and, we may add, in a true and very im- 
portant sense) a law to that being or power which puts 
forth such action. The will, therefore, is, in its very na- 
ture, subject to law. 

§ 97. Confrmed also by the fact, that every exercise of 
the will implies a motive. 

Furthermore, such is the nature of the will, that it 
must in its exercise not only have an object, in reference 
to which it acts, but, what is not less important, it must 
have a m.otive to action. Sometimes the outward object 
is called a motive. But we speak now of the internal or 
subjective, in distinction from the external or objective 
motive. In this sense we say, there must be a motive as 
well as an object. Both of these conditions of vohtive 



EVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 1G7 

action are indispensable. In the absence of either of 
them, it does not appear how^ any movement of the Will 
can possibly take place. 

Place any object whatever before the mind ; make it 
a distinct inquiry whether such object shall be obtained ; 
reflect upon it for any length of time, and in view of any 
multitude of considerations ; and, unless there exists in 
the mind that peculiar mental state which we denominate 
a motive, viz., some form of Desire or some sentiment of 
Obligation, the voluntary power will remain immutably 
and forever motionless. It is, therefore, another law of 
the Will, resulting from its own constitution or nature, 

THAT IT ACTS, AND ACTS ONLY, IN CONNEXION WITH MOTIVES. 

The subject of Motives, in connexion with the doc- 
trine of the Will, is a very interesting and important one. 
But we make scarcely more than a mere allusion to it 
here, because it will be necessary hereafter to resume it, 
and to examine it more particularly. We cannot forbear 
saying, however, that the autward or objective motive 
(more simply and precisely the object) is presented before 
the Will by the Intellect. The internal or subjective mo- 
tive, which, in philosophic strictness, is the true motive, is 
pres.ented before the Will by the Sensibilities. The for- 
mer indicates the direction in which the movement of the 
Will is to be made; the latter furnishes the proximate 
cause or ground of the movement. Both, as has been 
stated, are indispensable to the Will's action ; but the cir- 
cumstance, that the one is Intellective and the other Sen- 
sitive in its origin, forever distinguishes them from each 
other. 



168 LAWS OF THE WILL 



§ 98. Corifirmed also hy the fact, that every exercise ofth 
will implies belief. 

In introducing those considerations which are now pre- 
sented to the reader's notice, we are aware that we are 
repeating, to some extent, what has ah-eady been said in 
a former chapter of this volume. We shall, therefore, 
state them much more concisely than we might otherwise 
feel at liberty to do. 

Another law of the Will involved in its own nature, 
and which we have already had occasion to notice, is, 
that FAITH is a condition of volition. In other words, we 
cannot put forth an exercise of the Will or volition in re- 
spect to any given thing, vMhout some degree of faith or 
helief in the practicability or attainableness of that thing. 

We do not suppose that this law of the Will's action can 
be a matter of dispute. Whoever will make the experi- 
ment ; whoever will endeavour to put forth a volition in 
reference to any object which he fully believes and knows 
to be beyond his power, (for instance, in reference to fly- 
ing in the air, or the creation of a tree or stone,) will assu- 
redly satisfy himself of the impracticability of the attempt. 
In every case of this kind, there is an utter destitution or 
negation of belief The person does not believe, even in 
the slightest degree, in the practicability of the thing. 
And, therefore, he not only does not, but he cannot will it. 
Such is his nature. 

Furthermore, it seems to be a subordinate law of the 
Will, allied to, and growing out of, that which has just 
been mentioned, although there is perhaps a little more 
uncertainty attending it, that the degree of the voluntary 
or volitive energy, in cases where belief actually exists, 



INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. ■ 169 

will be in proportion, or nearly so, to the intensity or 
measure of belief. In other words, if our belief in the 
practicability of a thing is full and strong, the voluntary 
effort which we shall make will be likely, if other things 
do not concur to prevent this result, to partake of the en- 
ergy of our faith. And, on the other hand, if our behef 
be vacillating and weak, the natural result will be, that 
the volition, the effort of the voluntary faculty, will be 
proportionately vacillating and powerless. — (See on this 
subject, part i., chap, iv.) 

§ 98. Statement of other laws that are involved in the 
constitution or nature of the will itself 

Another law of the Will, involved in its own nature as 
that nature is ascertained by consciousness and general 
observation, is, that in its exercise it has exclusive relation 
to our own actions, and to whatever may he truly depen- 
dent upon us, but not to anything beyond this limit. — 
This law of the Will's action has been already (part i., 
chap, iv.) so fully explained and illustrated by examples, 
that it is unnecessary to delay upon it here. 

We may refer here also to the law of the Will, that its 
action is always prospective ; always looks forward to the 
future. It is not like the feelings of regret and remorse, 
for instance, that are always looking backward ; it is not 
like the memory, which is continually diving after and 
bringing up images from the abyss of things that are 
gone by ; but, although present in itself, it continually 
contemplates results that are in futurity. And such is its 
nature, that it cannot act otherwise. — We may add to this 
enumeration of the ascertained and determinate principles 
of the Will's action the fact, that the degree or strength 



170 • LAWS OF THE WILL 

of the volitive effort or volition will depend not only upon 
our belief in the practicability of the thing before us, but 
also upon the particular state of the sensibilities at the 
time. If, for instance, our desires are strong, the voh- 
tions to which they give rise will possess a correspond- 
ing degree of strength, unless there is a counteracting 
cause in the opposition of the moral feehngs. And if 
both the Natural and the Moral sensibility, the feelings of 
moral obligation as well as the desires, happen to be in 
the same direction, the voluntary energy will be propor- 
tionately increased. — The reader will, without difficuityy 
apply these statements to the general subject under con- 
sideration. 

§ 100. Proof on the subject before us from instances of 
predominant emotion and passion. 

There is another train of thought, which naturally 
presents itself to notice in the present chapter. We refer 
to instances of predominant emotion and passion, and the 
effect of such predominance in its relation to the acts of 
the Will. He who has made human nature a study, 
either in the past annals of the human race or within 
the range of his own personal observation, must have 
frequently noticed individuals in whom the passions have 
become so strong as to encroach upon the domain of the 
voluntary power, and to bring it into subjection. No 
matter what the passion is, (whether attachment to one's 
intimate friends, or attachment to one's comitry and the 
place of his birth, or the love of pleasure, or the desire 
of acquirmg property, or jealousy, or party zeal, or ha- 
tred, or ambition,) instances are everywhere found in so- 
ciety of the existence of the particular passion, whatever 



INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 171 

it may be, in such overwhelming strength as to make 
the man a slave to it. 

We might bring forward instances, and show more dis- 
tinctly what we mean, were it not that they will find a 
more appropriate place in another chapter in a subsequent 
part of the work, where we shall endeavour to explain 
what we understand by Enthralment or Slavery of the 
Will. But we may probably assume here, without hesi- 
tation, as a fact well known and readily admitted, that 
such instances exist ; that men, submitting to the influ- 
ence of a predominant passion, lose in a great degree that 
voluntary power which characterizes and ennobles human 
nature. In respect to certain persons, places, and objects, 
the Will, which, in its connexion with other persons, 
and places, and objects, was operative and effective, has 
lost its power, is entirely quiescent and subdued ; and if 
it makes at times what may be called an appreciable 
eflfort, it certainly fails to make an available one, and 
oftentimes this is a permanent state of things. It is fre- 
quently the case, that no lapse of time, no completeness 
of seclusion, no advice and consolation of friends, can 
weaken the controlling and inordinate influence, what- 
ever it is ; and thus, by liberating the Will, restore the 
parts of the mind to their true and appropriate position. 
But it certainly seems very obvious, if the Will is thus 
sometimes made captive to the passions, that there must 
be a real and operative connexion between the Will and 
the passions. In other words, there must be some fixed 
relations existing bet^'veen the different parts of the mind, 
and a reciprocal influence propagated from one part to 
another. And it seems to be a natural consequence of 
this, that the Will must be regarded as being, in some 
true and real sense, subject to laws. 



172 ^ LAWS OF THE WILL 



§ 101. Of the sense in which the proposition under con- 
sideration is to he understood. 

We wish to pause here in the discussion for the purpose 
of making a single remark. We have laid down and 
endeavoured to prove, by what may be called a cumula- 
tive process of argument, the general proposition, that 
THE WILL HAS ITS LAWS. And, in doing this, we have had 
occasion to point out some of them. But what we wish 
to remark now is this. — In predicating laws of the Will, 
we do not mean to assert (and perhaps the reader suffi- 
ciently understands this already) that the Will has laws 
in the same sense in which a piece of wood, or a tree, 
or a pendulum, or a clock, or a watch, or any other pure- 
ly material object, has laws. When we assert that the 
Will is subject to law, the terms of the proposition must 
of course be modified by the nature of the subject, and 
be explained in conformity with that nature. 

Nor are we to suppose that any practical mystery or 
difficulty necessarily attends this modification. We speak, 
for instance, of the power of the human mind ; and we 
also speak of the power of the steam-engine ; but there 
is evidently no difficulty in making the requisite modifica- 
tion of the import of the term power in these two cases. 
And so in the case before us. We apply the term laws 
to the mind as well as to matter; but obviously with 
some modification of meaning, resulting from the nature 
of the subject. Nor does the necessity of this modifica- 
tion perplex the proper apprehension or understanding of 
the terms which we thus use. Numberless propositions, 
having a relation to mind, and which, in their mental ap- 
plication, are somewhat modified in meaning, are as well 



INVOLVED IN ITS OWN NATURE. 173 

understood as other propositions which have exclusive re- 
lation to material things. 

Furthermore, it is well understood and acknowledged, 
that we can very properly, and with a clear apprehension 
of the import of the terms, predicate laws of the other 
parts of the mind, of the perceptive power, of memory, 
of reasoning, of imagination, and other powers. And if 
we can predicate laws of spiritual existence, or spiritual 
attributes, or spiritual action in any case whatever, we do 
not see why we cannot equally well predicate them, with 
the modification which has just been mentioned, of the 
human Will. 

The proposition, therefore, which we have been consid- 
ering, has a distinct and substantive meaning. And, as 
having such, it admits of the application of inquiry and 
argument, and is susceptible of being either affirmed or 
denied; and we leave it to the reader to determine 
whether the facts and circumstances which have been 
brought up in reference to it admit of any possible ex- 
planation, except on the ground of its undoubted truth. 



174 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE LAW OF CAUSALITY AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 

§ 102. Of certain laws or principles which extend to all 
classes of objects. 

There yet remain some particulars, in respect to which 
we may perhaps find it profitable to pursue this general 
subject a little further. It is well known that there are 
certain laws which do not originate in the nature of the 
Will, nor is it easy to say where they do originate, except 
it be in the Divine Mind itself; but which, nevertheless, 
we suppose to be applicable to the Will's exercises. 
The laws to which we now have reference are of a high 
and peculiar character, and on various accounts are wor- 
thy of particular attention. They are understood to ap- 
ply, unless any should undertake to find an exception in 
the Will, to all objects and all classes of objects whatever. 

The first law of this kind which we propose to con- 
sider, may be denominated the law of Causation or Caus- 
ality. Expressed in the more common form, the princi- 
ple of law which we now refer to is simply this. Every 
EFFECT HAS A CAUSE. But, Stated in language more ex- 
plicit, and less liable, as we apprehend, to misconception, 
it may be given as follows. There is no beginning or 

CHANGE OF EXISTENCE WITHOUT A CAUSE. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 175 



§ 103. A belief in the law of causality founded in the 
peculiar structure of the human mind. 

If the principle, (or primary truth, as it may well be 
denominated,) that there is no beginning or change of ex- 
istence without a cause, were examined in all its bearings, 
and with much minuteness of detail, the examination 
w^ould spread itself over the pages of a volume. With- 
out proposing, however, to enter into the subject at much 
ienffth, which -would be inconsistent with our limits, we 
shall proceed to offer a few remarks which may tend -to 
its illustration. 

In explanation of the great law of Causality, our first 
remark is, that the human mind is so constituted, that all 
events and all objects of knowledge whatever are made 
known to it in time. And, in connexion with this remark, 
we may add, there is no apprehension or knowledge of 
time, (we speak now of the human, and not of the di- 
vine intellect,) except by means of succession. It seems 
to be universally admitted by those who have given spe- 
cial attention to the inquiry, that the occasion on which 
we have the idea of duration suggested or called forth 
within us, is succession ; particularly that succession of 
thought and feeling, of which we are conscious as taking 
place internally. Hence the structure of the human 
mind requires, (what, indeed, a constant experience also 
teaches us,) that all those objects of knowledge, which in 
the view of the mind have a distinct and separate exist- 
ence, should be contemplated as successive to each other ; 
in other words, all the distinct objects of knowledge, of 
whatever kind, arrange themselves as antecedents and se- 
quents. Hence it happens that we are led, at a very' 



176 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

early period, to frame the ideas of antecedence and se- 
quence, since nature from the very first is necessarily/ 
(that is to say, by virtue of our mental constitution) pre- 
sented to us and pressed upon our notice under this as- 
pect. It is different with the intellectual perception, the 
mind of the Supreme Being, who is not necessitated to 
become acquainted with objects in this peculiar form or 
mode ; but perceives all events and all objects of knowl- 
edge simultaneously, and spread out before Him, as it 
were, on a map. 

It seems obvious, therefore, that the basis of the belief 
which is accorded to the great law of Causality is deep- 
ly laid in the peculiar structure of the human soul. The 
law not only exists, (that is to say, it is not only a great 
principle in natm-e, that all facts and events arrange 
themselves as antecedents and sequences, and sustain the 
relation of cause and effect,) but the structure of the 
mind itself is such that it naturally, and, as it were, with 
its earliest breath, imbibes- a knowledge of it. 
« 

§ 104. Of the universality of belief in the law of 
causality. 

Accordingly, from the earliest period of our lives, we 
are naturally led, by the inherent and permanent tenden- 
cies of our mental constitution, to contemplate objects in 
this way. All objects which are both distinct and separ- 
ate in themselves, and are contemplated separately fi-om 
each other by the mind, necessarily pass before the intel- 
lectual view in succession. They appear and disappear, 
one after another, in a sort of perennial movement, ari- 
sing in the course of the mind's action from darkness to 
light, and then again waning into evanescence, and 
vrapping themselves in clouds., 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 177 

It is in this way we are made acquainted with the gen- 
eral idea of succession. But this is not all. By a care- 
ful observation of what takes place both within and 
around us, we are soon enabled to distinguish one succes- 
sion from another ; that succession, for instance, which is 
unfixed and variable, from that which is always the same. 
In other words, we soon ascertain from our experience 
that certain facts and events are preceded by other fixed 
and invariable facts and events, and that the former never 
take place without the antecedent existence of the latter. 
This is the universal experience in regard to a great num- 
ber of facts and events, viz?, that they are thus invariably 
connected together. And it is this form of our experi- 
ence in particular, from which no one is exempt, which 
furnishes the occasion of the universal and unalterable 
belief, arising naturally and necessarily in the human 
mind, and existing in all ages and places in the world, 
that every effect, meaning by the term whatever takes 
place or begins to exist, has a cause. We say, existing 
in all ages and places of the world, for this undoubtedly 
is found to be the simple and real fact, so far as any in- 
quiry has been made on the subject ; and which is ascer- 
tained so extensively as to warrant the further extension 
of it by analogy to every human being. This proposi- 
tion, which may be termed the law of causality, is one 
of those transcendental or primary truths which lay at 
the foundation of all knowledge. The belief which is 
involved in it is unprompted, spontaneous, and original ; 
it is the necessary growth of the mind's action, in the cir- 
cumstances in which we are placed; and so far from 
being the result of reasoning, which is the foundation of 
so large a portion of our knowledge, it is entirely ante- 
cedent to it, and is to be regarded as one of those tilings 



175 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

on which the reasoning power itself essentially depends^ 
as one of its primitive and indispensable bases. 

§ 105. Of the classification into Preparative and Effective 
causes. 

It is true that men, after a time, learn to comment on 
this fundamental proposition, and to make distinctions. 
After their increased experience has enabled them, to 
draw the line between the things animate and inanimate, 
material and immaterial, and especially after they have 
learned more fully the nature and the appropriate resi- 
dence of that great element of mind which we denomi- 
nate Powder, they begin to make a distinction, which, un- 
doubtedly, is a well-founded one, between efficient or ef- 
fective causes, which imply the exercise of power, and 
other causes, which furnish merely the preparation or oc- 
casion of what follow^s.— These two classes of causes, 
therefore, might not improperly be denominated and char- 
acterized, in order to aid in distinguishing them from 
each other, respectively as Preparative and Effective 
causes. Certain it is, that such a distinction is to be 
made ; and that without it the fundamental principle of 
the universality of causation does not hold true. Both 
of these classes of causes imply the notion of invariable 
antecedence ; but they differ in this. Preparative causes 
(if, for the want of a better term, we may be permitted so 
to call them) furnish merely the ground or occasion of 
w^hat is to follow ; while Effective causes imply not only 
the ground or occasion of what follows, but the actual 
efficiency or power which brings it to pass. Effective 
causes have power in themselves; while Preparative 
causes only furnish the appropriate and necessary occa- 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 179 

sions, on which the power, that is lodged somewhere else, 
exercises itself. Both classes are prerequisite and neces- 
sary to their appropriate results or effects ; but the one 
class, having efficiency in itself, is strictly operative, and 
may be considered as actually making or bringing to pass 
the effect, whatever it may be ; but the other class, which 
is destitute of efficiency in itself, is merely the preparato- 
ry circumstance, occasion, or condition, on which what is 
called the effect, either in virtue of its own power or 
some attendant power extraneous to itself, invariably 
takes place. 

^ 106. JVature of Preparative and Effective causes. 

It might, perhaps, be proper, in this place, to illustrate 
briefly the distinction between the two classes of causes 
whi(^ have been mentioned. — We proceed to say, there- 
fore, that all natural or physical causes are, in themselves, 
and considered in their own nature, merely Preparative, 
and not Effective. That which is Effective implies pow- 
er ; and power is an attribute of mind, but not of matter. 
The rain, for instance, is a Preparative cause of the growth 
of corn. The corn will not grow without it. But the 
Efficient or Effective cause is the power of God, exerted, 
in accordance with his own instituted order of things, to 
render the rain available in the product and gro^vth of 
the plant. — So the ploughing of the ground and the sow- 
ing of the seed are Preparative causes ; and without them 
the product, whatever it is, does not make its appearance. 
Nevertheless, the Effective cause, which is always an at- 
tribute of mind, must attend them. 

Both classes of causes are found to exist in the human 
mind. We propose, for instance, to go to a certain place ; 



180 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

and not only this, we have a desire to go. The desire, 
in this case, is the Motive or Preparative cause to the vo- 
lition ; which volition, in its turn, is the Effective cause to 
the act of going forth. So that volition is so placed, in 
the economy of things, as to sustain, not only the twofold 
relation of antecedence and sequence, but to involve in 
itself, and that, too, in entire consistency with the unity of 
its nature, the twofold element of dependence and power, 
of subordination and control. This is a very remarkable 
trait in volition ; and there have been a multitude of dis- 
putes in consequence of not understanding it. 

We desire to say further, it is important to keep in 
mind the distinction which has been made between these 
two classes of causes, the Preparative and Effective. It is 
with this distinction in view, and not otherwise, that we 
assert the universality of causation ; in other words, that 
every effect has a cause. And accordingly, we repeat, 
that it is the universal belief of men, evinced alike by 
their words and their conduct, that without a cause there 
is neither any beginning nor any change of existence. 

§ 107. Opinions of various philosophers on this subject. 

Probably on no topic whatever can we find a greater 
agreement and a more decided concurrence of testimony, 
than in respect to the fundamental proposition now before 
us. We shall here introduce to the notice of the reader 
some passages which will show that this remark is not 
unadvisedly made. 

Archbishop King. — In the celebrated Treatise of this 
learned and acute writer on the Origin of Evil, we find it 
maintained in a number of passages, that, although there 
is a great First Cause or original and imcreated Active 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 18 1 

Principle, all other things whatever, whether material or 
inunaterial, are dependent upon, and are connected with, 
that original Active Power, in the unbroken chain and 
succession of eifects and causes, however remote that de- 
pendence and connexion may be. " We are certain," he 
remarks in his inquiries concerning the First Cause or 
God, " that all other things come from this Active Prin- 
ciple. For nothing else, as we have shown before, con- 
tains in itself necessary existence or active power, entirely 
independent of any other. As, therefore, itself is from 
none, so all others are from if. For from hence we con- 
clude that this Principle does exist, because, after consid- 
ering the rest of the things which do exist, we perceive 
that they could neither be nor act, if that had not existed 
and excited motion in them."* 

Dr. Clarke. — In the Demonstration of the Being and 
Attributes of God, we find the subject under examination 
referred to by this distinguished writer in the following 
terms. — "It is absolutely and undeniably certain, that 
something has existed from all eternity. This is so evi- 
dent and undeniable a proposition, that no atheist in any 
age has ever presumed to assert the contrary ; and, there- 
fore, there is little need of being particular in the proof 
of it. For, since something now is, it is evident that 
something always was : otherwise the things that now 
are must have been produced out of nothing, absolutely 
and without a cause ; which is a plain contradiction in 
terms. For to say a thing is produced, and yet that 
there is no cause at all of that production, is to say that 
something is effected, when it is effected hy nothing ; that 
IS, at the same time when it is not effected at all. What- 
ever exists has a cause, a reason, a ground of its exist- 
* Essay concerning the Origin of Evil, eh. i., ^ iii. 

Q 



182 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

ence ; (a foundation on which its existence relies ; a ground 
or reason why it doth exist rather than not exist y) either 
in the necessity of its own nature, and then it must have 
been of itself eternal ; or in the will of some other being, 
and then that other being must, at least in the order of 
nature and causality, have existed before it."* 

Lord Kames. — " That nothing can happen without a 
cause, is a principle embraced by all men, the illiterate 
and ignorant as well as the learned. Nothing that hap- 
pens is conceived as happening of itself, but as an effect 
produced by some other thing. However ignorant of 
the cause, we notwithstanding conclude that every event 
must have a cause. We should, perhaps, be at a loss to 
deduce this principle from any premises by a chain of 
reasoning. But perception affords conviction, where rea- 
son leaves us in the dark. We perceive the proposition 
to be true. And, indeed, a sentiment common to all must 
he founded on the common nature of all."f 

Mr. Stewart. — " It may be safely pronounced to be 
impossible for a person to bring himself for a moment to 
believe, that any change may take place in the material 
universe without a cause. I can conceive very easily 
that the volition in my mind is not the efficient cause of 
the motions of my hand ; but can I conceive that my hand 
moves without any cause whatever ? In the case of every 
change around us, without exception, we have an irresist- 
ible conviction of the operation of some cause."J 

Dr. Dwight. — " The mind cannot realize the fact, 
that existence or change can take place without a cause. 

* Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, Prop. i. 
t Principles of Morality and Natural Religion, Lond., 2d ed., Essay iii. 
% Stewart's Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, book iii., 
ch. ii., § i. 



AS APPLIC.VBLE TO THE WILL. 183 

If 

This is, at least, true with respect to my own mind. I 
have very often made the attempt, and with no small 
painstaking, but never been able to succeed at all. Sup- 
posing other minds to have the same general nature with 
my own, I conclude that all others will find the same 
want of success. If nothing had originally existed, I 
cannot possibly realize that anything could ever have ex- 
isted."* 

§ 108. Opinions of President Edwards on this subject. 

In addition to these respectable testimonies, without re- 
ferring to a multitude of others not less explicit, we may 
adduce that of President Edwards, as it is found in his 
able Inquiry into the Will ; and which is the more valu- 
able, as it comes from a writer not only of the most dis- 
tinguished ability, but who had given particular attention 
to this very subject. — " Having thus explained," says 
President Edwards, " what I mean by cause, I assert, that 
nothing ever comes to pass without a cause. What is 
self-existent must be from eternity, and must be unchange- 
able. But as to all things that begin to be, they are not 
self-existent, and therefore must have some foundation of 
their existence without themselves. — That whatsoever be- 
gins to be, which before was not, must have a cause why 
it begins to exist, seems to be the first dictate of the com- 
mon and natural sense which God hath implanted in the 
minds of all mankind, and the main foundation of all. our 
reasonings about the existence of things, past, present, or 
to come. 

"And this dictate of common sense equally respects 
substances and modes, or things and the manner and cir- 
* Dwight's Theology, Sermon i., on the Existence of God. 



184 * THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

cumstances of things. Thus, if we see a body, which has 
hitherto been at rest, start out of a state of rest and begin 
to move, we do as naturally and necessarily suppose there 
is some cause or reason of this new mode of existence, as 
of the existence of a body itself which had hitherto not 
existed. And so, if a body which had hitherto moved in 
a certain direction should suddenly change the direction 
of its motion ; or if it should put off its old figure and take 
a new one, or change its colour, the beginning of these 
new modes is a new event, and the mind of mankind ne- 
cessarily supposes that there is some cause or reason of 
them."* 

§ 109. Results of a denial of the law of causality. 

One or two remarks remain to be made, showing the 
importance of the doctrine we have been considering. — 
First. Our belief in an external, material world is, in 
some degree, founded upon it. We have, for instance, 
the various sensations of taste, smell, sound, touch, and 
sight ; but it will be noticed that, in themselves consider- 
ed, they are purely internal, and are as much attributes 
of the soul as the emotions of cheerfulness, and joy, and 
sorrow, and wonder. It is to be noticed further, that, as 
matters of consciousness, we take cognizance of their mere 
existence, and of nothing more than their mere existence, 

* J]dwards's Inquiry into the Will, part ii., ^ iii. — A number of other 
American writers, of less celebrity undoubtedly than Presidents Edwards 
and Dwight, but still of great weight, have maintained the principle un- 
der discussion. See, among other works, Dr. Stephen West's Essay on 
Moral Agency, part i., ^ v., vi. ; and Dr. Burton's Essays on some of 
the First Principles of Metaphysics, &c., Essay xiii. — See also, in con- 
nexion with this subject, a recent English Work of Dr. Abercrombie, 
entitled, Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, part ii., ^ ii. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 185 

till the great law of Causality, which has established itself 
in our convictions from the first dawning of the intellect, 
and which constantly presses itself on our notice, leads us 
to inquire. Whence come these sensations ? What is it 
that fills us with sensations of sound, and developes in the 
soul these visions of visible form and beauty 1 It is thus 
we are led to seek the grounds of these inward sensations 
in outward objects, and to recognise and admit the exist- 
ence of a world of matter. So that if men could be made 
to believe that there may be effects without causes, and 
could thus disconnect their inward sensations from all 
outward antecedents, they might consistently regard all 
other existences as identified and imbodied in their own, 
and pronounce everything which seemed not to be in 
themselves mere unsubstantial images, chimeras, and illu- 
sory appearances. 

Second. If we deny and reject the law of Causality, it 
does not appear how we can prove, in that case, the ex- 
istence of the Supreme Being. The Apostle assures us, 
that the invisible things of God, even his eternal power 
and Godhead, are made known from the things which 
are created. And who, it may be asked, is able to cast 
his eye over the expanded face of nature, decorated Avith 
countless forms of life and beauty, without everywhere 
reading the stamp and signatures of a higher Power ? 
We reason upward, from the things which are made to 
the Maker. But the process of reasoning which we thus 
employ in proof of a Divine existence from the works of 
nature, must eviden+ly have some foundation, something 
to rest upon. Natui'e presents the facts, and the facts 
merely, and not the fundamental principle, that is neces- 
sary to render them available in a process of reasoning. 
And what is this fundamental principle 1 What is it that 
Q2 



186 THE LAW OF CAUSALITY 

sustains the reasoning process ? — In answer to this inquiry, 
all we can say is, that its basis is in this veiy proposition 
■which we have made the subject of our consideration ; in 
the great and fundamental truth of causation. And with- 
out that truth, the argument has not an inch of ground 
on which it can support itself. But if, on the other hand, 
it be true, that every effect has its cause, then may the 
universe of effects around us, bound together as it is by 
the evidences of a pervading unity as well as expansive 
cind pervading wisdom, justly claim for itself, in its crea- 
tion, the agency of a Supreme Being, and thus lead our 
belief upward from the things that are made to the con- 
ception and belief of the great author of them. 

Third, If we deny and reject the doctrine of Causality, 
we are not only unable to prove the existence of the 
Deity, but there is, in fact, no Deity whose existence is to ' 
be proved. — The term Deity, in the sense commonly at- 
tached to it, includes particularly the ideas of Omniscience 
and Superintendence. But obviously, if the doctrine of 
Causality be not true, there is no basis whatever either 
for the one or the other of these attributes of the Supreme 
Being. If effects can take place without causes ; if events 
can happen without being connected in any way with 
anything antecedent, then there is evidently no tie which 
can effectually unite them, either with the Divine mind 
or with any other mind. They stand insulated and apart 
from everythin else ; they come and go, through the 
great and universal ordering and arrangement of things, 
like strangers from an unknown land, whose advent and 
departure are alike beyond all anticipation and knowl- 
edge. The vast and boundless empire, of which God 
stands at the head, would be flooded by events in which 
he would have no agency, and of which he could have 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. l87 

had no antecedent conception. Instead of the harmony 
and unity, which now everywhere exist and everywhere 
difhise happiness, there would be the return of chaos ; a 
universal breaking-up of the established system of things ; 
the reign of- chance and tumult, of confusion and discord. 
But the law of Causality hushes the confusion, arranges 
the discordant mateiials, and brings everything into order. 

§ 110. Application of the views of this chapter to the tvill. 

Our object in introducing the views of this chapter, 
although they are interesting topics of consideration in 
other respects, must be obvious. They apply directly to 
the WILL ; and, if we do not misapprehend their bearing, 
they decisively support the doctrine, that the Voluntary 
power, whatever may be true in respect to its freedom, is 
still NOT EXEMPT FROM LAW. If there be any primary ele- 
ment of human reason whatever, any undoubted and fun- 
damental truth evolved from the very structure of the mind 
and exacting a universal assent, it is the one imder consid- 
eration. But if the Will is exempt from the superintend- 
ence of all law, if its acts have respect to no antecedent, 
and are regulated by no conditions, then this fundament- 
al proposition is not true, and has no existence, iiut if, 
on the other hand, in compliance with the dictates of our 
nature, and the indispensable requirements of our situa- 
tion, we adhei'e to this truth in all that unlimited length 
and breadth which constitutes its value, we shall, of 
course, assign to every act of the will a Cause. 

Let it be noticed, however, that we do not specify here 
the precise nature of the cause. We use the term cause 
here, as we have done in all that has been said, in its 
broadest sense, as meaning, according to the nature of 



188 THE LAW OF CAUSAI.ITY 

the subject spoken of, either the mere antecedent occasion, 
or the antecedent combined with power ; as expressing 
either the Effective cause, which truly makes the sequence, 
or the Preparative cause, which is merely a condition of 
the existence of such sequence. In the language of Pres- 
ident Edwards, who endeavoured to prevent his being 
misunderstood, by taking particular precautions in respect 
to this term, we employ it " to signify any antecedent, 
either natural or moral, positive or negative, on which an 
event, either a thing, or the manner and circumstances of 
a thing, so depends, that it is the ground and reason, 
either in whole or in part, why it is, rather than not, or 
why it is as it is, rather than otherwise."* In this com- 
prehensive "sense of the term, we hold it to be undeniably 
true, that there is no act of the will, no volition without 
a cause. And this being the case, it is, of course, implied 
that the Will itself, from which the act or volition origi- 
nates, is subject to some principles of regulation ; in other 

words, HAS ITS LAWS. 

§ 111. Of the common and practical application of these 
views. 

That the law of Causality is applicable to the Will, is 
a dictate of common experience and of common sense, 
as well as the result of philosophical analysis. Accord- 
ingly, it will be found, that in all our estimates of human 
character, as it has developed itself at any former time, 
we take this law for granted. And this, too, not only in 
its more general application to all things which begin to 
exist, but in its application to the human Will. If, in any 
case whatever, we ascribe merit to a man, or charge him 
* Edwards's Inquiry into the Will, part ii., () iii. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 189 

with crime, we necessarily involve that his conduct, which 
is the basis of our judgment, was not accidental, but had 
its antecedent, its cause, its motive. 

This is particularly true of History. All history may 
be considered under two points of view, viz.. Statistical 
and Philosophical. So far as it is statistical, it is merely 
a collection of facts, and does not involve the application 
of the law of Causality to the Will ; but, so far as it is 
philosophical, which is the higher and nobler aspect in 
which it presents itself, it involves it continually. To 
know how men acted may indeed be a matter of interest ; 
but to know why they acted as they did rather than other- 
wise, is, to the sober and philosophic inquirer, a matter of 
still greater interest. But whenever we put the question 
why they acted in any given manner rather than another, 
we necessarily imply that there are principles of action, 
and that every action has its cause. And this, of course, 
involves the application of the law of Causality to the 
human Will. 

Hence the propriety and philosophic good sense of Mr. 
Hume's remarks. — " Would you know," says this writer, 
" the sentiments, inclinations, and course of life of the 
Greeks and Romans? Study well the temper and ac- 
tions of the French and English. You cannot be much 
mistaken in transferring to the former most of the obser- 
vations which you have made with regard to the latter. 
Mankind are so much the same, in all times and places, 
that history informs us of nothing new or strange in this 
particular. Its chief use is only to discover the constant 
and universal principles of human nature, by showing 
men in all varieties of circumstances and situations, and 
furnishing us with materials from which we may form our 
observations, and become acquainted with the regular 



190 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY 

springs of human action and behaviour. These records 
of wars, intrigues, factions, and revolutions, are so many 
collections of experiments, by which the politician or 
moral philosopher fixes the principles of his science ; in 
the same manner as the physician or natural philosopher 
becomes acquainted vnth the nature of plants, minerals, 
and other external objects, by the experiments which he 
forms concerning them. Nor are the earth, water, and 
other elements, examined by Aristotle and Hippocrates, 
more like to those which at present lie under our observa- 
tion, than the men, described by Polybius and Tacitus, 
are to those who now eovern the world."* 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 

§ 112. Belief of men in the continued uniformity of 
nature''s operations. 

Another principle or law of practically universal appli- 
cation, one which, like the preceding, is considered funda- 
mental to the due exercise of the reasoning power in the 
ordinary occasions of its exercise, and the truth of which 
seems to be universally admitted, is this, that there is a 
permanency and uniformity in the operations of nature. 
When we assert, as we cannot hesitate to do, that this 
principle is accordant wdth the common belief of mankind, 
and that it is universally admitted, we are not aware of 

* Hume's Inquiry concerning the Human Understanding, Essay viii. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 191 

asserting anything more than what is obvious every hour 
in the ordinary conversation and conduct of men. Is not 
such the case ? Does not the shghtest observation show 
it ? All men believe that the setting sun will arise again 
at the appointed hour; that the rains will descend and 
the winds blow, and that the frosts and the snows will 
cover the earth, essentially the same as they have done 
heretofore ; that the decaying plants of autumn will revive 
in the spring ; that the tides of the ocean will continue to 
heave as in times past ; and that there will be the return 
and the alternation of heat and cold ; and that the streams 
and rivers will continue to flow in their courses. Their 
conduct clearly proves, in all these cases, and in all in- 
stances analogous to them, the existence of a belief in the 
principle of uniformity above mentioned, which seems 
deeply founded, constant, and unwavering in the very 
highest degree. If they doubted, they certainly would 
not live, and would not act, and would not feel, as they 
are now seen to do. It is with this belief that they lie 
down amid the evening shadows and sleep in quietness ; 
it is with this belief they arise in the light of the morning, 
and till the reluctant earth in the sweat of their brow ; it 
is viath this belief that they store their minds with knowl- 
edge which, vvithout the belief, they could never imagine 
to be at all available to them ; it is under the control of 
the same immoveable conviction that they rear their habi- 
tations, and provide, in various ways, for the good and the 
evil, the joys and the sufferings of the future. 

We are desirous of not being misunderstood in the 
statement of this great practical and fundamental princi- 
ple. This principle, although it is an elementary and 
fundamental one, seems to be, in some sense, subordinate 
to the law or principle of causality. The latter partakes 



192 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY 

more of a transcendental nature. We not only fully be-- 
lieve it, but it is impossible not to believe. It is as im- 
possible for us to believe that existences can be brough 
into being vs^ithout a cause, or, in other words, that no 
thing can produce something, as to believe that the par; 
is greater than the whole. But in respect to the othei 
principle, although we are so constituted as fully to be- 
lieve the affirmative, we do not necessarily believe the 
absolute impossibility of the negative. In other words, 
while, by our very constitution, we believe in the uni- 
formity of nature in all its relations and bearings upon 
ourselves, we do not necessarily preclude the possible in- 
terposition of that Being on whom all natiu-e depends. 
Our belief is undoubtedly subject to that limitation. 

§ 113. This belief exists in reference to mind as well as 
matter. 

But while the statements now made are assented to, in 
relation to the material world and outward objects in 
general, it may be supposed that they do not hold good 
in relation to the mvid of man, and spiritual or mental ob- 
jects. But this is an erroneous supposition. There are 
no sufficient grounds for maintaining that men intend to 
limit the application of the principle in question to mere 
material things ; but, on the contrary, they undoubtedly 
regard it as extending to mind, so far as comes within the 
reach of their observation, and by analogy to all minds in 
all parts of the universe. In other words, they believe 
there is a uniformity in mental as well as in material ac- 
tion. Certainly it must have come within the observa- 
tion of every one, that men act precisely as if this were 
the case. It is admitted on all sides that men plant their 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 193 

grounds in the spring, with the full expectation and con- 
fidence that the operations of nature will be essentially 
the same as they have been, and that vernal labours will 
be enriched with autumnal rewards. But do they not 
exhibit a similar confident expectation in their intercourse 
with each other ? Docs not the parent till the mind of 
his child, in the full expectation of a mental harvest ? Do 
not men make promises, and form covenants, and incur 
responsibilities to an extent and with an assurance which 
can be explained only on the ground that they regard the 
law of uniformity as being applicable to mental as well 
as physical nature ? Without this belief, no contracts be- 
tween man and man would be formed ; no business trans- 
actions, involving future liabilities and duties, would be 
caiTied on ; no domestic relationships would be establish- 
ed ; but everything would be thrown into utter confusion 
and perplexity ; and even the bonds of society, without 
which man can hardly exist and certainly cannot be hap- 
py, would be loosened and torn asimder. So that the 
situation and conduct of men may, in this case, be regard- 
ed as proofs of what they believe. And, being so regard- 
ed, they clearly indicate and prove the general and decided 
conviction among them, that there is an established and 
uniform order in the mental operations of mankind, which, 
if not perfectly analogous, is as much so as the different 
natures of matter' and mind will permit, to the regular 
course of things which we constantly observe in the phys- 
ical world. 

§ 1 14. Circumstances under which this belief arises. 

It ought, perhaps, to be added, in explanation of this 
belief in the permanency and uniformity, both of material 

R 



194 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY 

and mental nature, that it does not appear to arise and 
exist in its full strength at once. It seems to have its 
birth at first in some particular instance ; and then again 
is called into existence in another instance; and then 
subsequently in another and another ; till ultimately we 
are led to regard that permanency and uniformity to 
which it relates as of universal application, with the sin- 
gle exception already referred to, viz., the possible inter- 
position of that great Being on whom all nature depends. 
As the belief arises in this gradual way, we may well 
suppose, that, in the early periods of its origin and growth, 
it is comparatively weak ; but it soon acquires great 
strength ; so much so, that every day and hour we do 
not hesitate to make it the basis of our conduct. Even 
in our childhood and youth, it had become in our minds 
a fixed principle, which, in ordinary cases, we no more 
thought of questioning, than we did the facts of our per- 
sonality and personal identity. We always looked upon 
nature, even at that early period, as .firm, unshaken, im- 
moveable ; as going forth, in all the varieties of her ac- 
tion, to the undoubted attainment of certain definite ends, 
and as announcing, in the facts of the past, a most perfect 
pledge of what was to come. 

§ 115. Of the true idea of chance, in distinction from 
uniformity. 

We cannot hesitate to assert, that the belief in ques- 
tion is accordant with fact. The mind in this respect, as 
in others, corresponds with the operations and course of 
things around it. They are mutually adapted to each 
other. But if others have less confidence in these asser- 
tions, we "vVduld propose to them to consider a moment 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 195 

the opposite of the uniformity contended for, viz., contin- 
gency or chance. We must either take law, which im- 
phes a uniformity of operations, or chance, which imphes 
none. There is no other alternative. But what is 
chance ? Does it express any fact or position in knowl- 
edge ; or have relation merely to the existence of human 
ignorance 1 Evidently the latter. And hence it hap- 
pens, that what is considered and called chance by one, 
is far from being so considered by another, who has a 
deeper insight into it. And in all cases whatever, the in- 
crease of knowledge will diminish what are considered 
the domains of chance by those who are incapable of 
fully exploring them. Some person says, for instance, it 
is a mere chance whether the American Congress or the , 
English Parliament will pass such or such an act in their 
coming session. But if this person could fully penetrate 
the hearts of all the members, their convictions, interests, 
prejudices, and moral sentiments, it would no longer be 
chance, but become certainty. 

Accordingly, when men assert the occurrence of a 
thing by chance, it cannot be supposed that they truly 
mean to assert (for a voice within them, an original im- 
pulse of their own nature, assm'es them of the contrary) 
that the thing in question happens without any occasion 
or reason, and wholly independent of the law of uniform- 
ity. Their notions will perhaps be indistinct, and it is 
possible they may entertain some such idea at first ; but 
if they will only analyze their thoughts, they will be con- 
vinced they cannot, with any sort of propriety, intend to 
express by it anything more than their own want of 
knowledge. In other words, when a thing happens by 
chance, it happens by chance in respect to them. That 
is to say, they are not able to comprehend and explain 
how it happens ; it comes in a way they know not how ; 



196 THE LAAV OF UNIFORMITY 

and as they can attach to it no law, it has the appearance 
to them of being without law. And it is this appearance 
undoubtedly, rather than the reality of the absence of 
causation and of imiformity, which they intend to express 
when they use the word in question. 

§ 116. Grounds or foundation of this helief. 

It will perhaps be inquired, what is the foundation of 
the deep belief which so universally attaches itself to the 
great principle of a permanency and uniformity in nature ? 
To what part of our constitution is it to be referred 1 — It 
would, perhaps, be a natural explanation to suggest, that 
it is founded upon acts of reasoning. But, on examina- 
tion, this does not appear to be the case. We do indeed 
sometimes speak, as we had occasion to remark on a 
former occasion, in some such manner as follows : The 
sun rose to-day, therefore it will do the same to-morrow ; 
Food nourished us to-day, therefore it will do the same 
to-morrow, &c. ; a mode of expression which seems to 
imply, that the uniformity of the future is inferred or de- 
duced from the facts of the past by a train of reasoning. 
But certainly it is not difficult to see that something is 
here wanting ; that a link in the chain of reasoning; must 
be supplied in order to make it cohere ; and that, conse- 
quently, there is merely the appearance or form of rea- 
soning without the reality. The mere naked fact that 
the sun rose to-day, without anything else being connect- 
ed with it, affords not the least ground for the inference 
that it will rise again ; and the same may be said of all 
similar instances. We cannot, therefore, prove the uni- 
formity in question in this way.* 

* See some remarks on the Law of Uniformity, and also on that of 
Causulity, in the chapter on Primary Truths, in the first volume. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 197 

But if reasoning is not the basis on which it rests, and 
if we can give no other satisfactory explanation of its 
origin, (and it does not appear that we can,) all we can 
say is, that the belief which men so universally have of 
such uniformity is the gift of nature ; that it is neither 
taught to them by a deduction from other principles, nor 
communicated by any other secondary process whatever ; 
but is produced or arises naturally within them ; the ne- 
cessary and infallible growth and product of their mental 
constitution. In other words, the very structure of our 
minds requires us to assmne as a certainty and truth, that 
there will be, in time to come as in time past, this alle- 
ged permanency and uniformity in the operations which 
are going on in the various departments of nature, both 
mental and material. Certain it is, no one appears to 
doubt that such will be the case, although no one can 
bring proof of the fact, except such as is furnished by 
the irresistible suggestions of his own internal being. So 
that the principle of uniformity, like that of causality, is 
something antecedent to reasoning, and not subsequent to 
it ; something beyond and above reasoning, and not de- 
pendent on it ; one of those original and substantial cdl- 
mnns, implanted within us by the provident care of na- 
ture, which the reasoning power could never have placed 
there, but upon which that power, as it does upon the 
other great principle just referred to, subsequently erects 
its magnificent structures. 

§ 117. Reference to the opinions of Reid and Ahercromhie. 

It is proper to remark, that we do not by any means pro- 
pose these views as novel ; nor, on the other hand, do 
our lunits permit us to introduce passages at much length 
R2 



198 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY 

for the purpose of showing how often and how ably they 
have been maintained by distinguished writers. We feel 
at liberty to make but one or two references out of a mul- 
titude of others not less explicit. — " In the phenomena 
of nature," says Dr. Reid, " what is to be, will probably 
be like to what has been in similar circumstances. . We 
must have this conviction as soon as we are capable of 
learning anything from experience ; for all experience is 
grounded upon a belief that the futm-e will be like the 
past. Take aw^ay this principle, and the experience of 
a hundred years makes us no wiser with regard to what 
is to come. 

" This is one of those principles which, w^hen we grow 
up and observe the course of nature, we can confirm by 
reasoning. We perceive that nature is governed by fixed 
laws, and that, if it were not so, there could be no such 
thing as prudence in human conduct ; there would be no 
fitness in any means to promote an end ; and what on 
one occasion promoted it, might as probably, on another 
occasion, obstruct it. 

" But the principle is necessary for us before we are 
able to discover it by reasonings and, therefore, is made a 
part of our constitution, and produces its effects before the 
use of reason P* 

Dr. Abercrombie, in a recent philosophical Work char- 
acterized by its sober and practical good sense, speaks of 
certain first truths, " which are not the result of any 
process of reasoning, but force themselves, with a convic- 
tion of infallible certainty, upon every sound understand- 
ing, without regard to its logical habits or pow^ers of in- 
duction." Among these, he expressly and particularly 
includes " a confidence in the uniformity of nature j or, 
* Reid's Intellectual Powers of Man, Essay v. 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 199 

that the same substance will always exhibit the same 
characters ; and that the same cause, under the same cir- 
cumstances, will always be followed by the same effect. 
This, as a first truth, is a fundamental and instinctive con- 
viction."* 

§ 118. Jipplication of these views to the ivilL 

And now let us inquire how the law of Uniformity, 
which, in all its aspects, is a subject of interesting philo- 
sophical inquiiy, will apply to the general topic under con- 
sideration. Does not the existence of this Law furnish an 
argument of much weight in respect to the regulation of the 
Will 1 It will be kept in mind, that the Law in question 
is understood to apply, without exception, to everything 
whatever, both mental and material, which has properties, 
attributes, or acts ; subject only, like the law of Causality, 
to the modification which the nature of the thing or ob- 
ject, to which it attaches itself, naturally implies. And, 
as thus stated and understood, it is received and maintain- 
ed by writers of great discernment, among whom Mr. 
Stewart, w^ho is not apt to commit himself in favom' of 
any position of doubtful strength, as well as Dr. Reid and 
Dr. Abercrombie, may be included. It applies, therefore, 
to the human Will. 

And this view is in entire accordance with the common 
sentiments and practices of mankind. — Men, for instance, 
are constantly operating upon each other, endeavouring, 
for some purpose or other, to regulate, influence, and con- 
trol the conduct of others. And what methods do they 
employ 1 It is evident that they cannot possibly control 

* Abercrombie's Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, part 
ill., 4 iv- 



200 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY 

the conduct of their fellow-men, except by operating on 
the Will. And the course which, in accordance with 
this view, we find them taking, is that of applying prom- 
ises, threatenings, encouragements, and exhortations. 
They address these, and other like considerations, to 
those whose conduct they desire to influence, as motives _; 
expecting, as they think they have abundant reason to, 
that they "will be received and have their influence as 
such. These are the means they employ ; and no one is 
ignorant that in the employment of them they meet with 
a great degree of success. But if the action of the Will 
were not regulated by some permanent principles, and 
particularly if it were not reached and regulated by the 
i-AW OF UNIFORMITY, it is evident that this could not happen. 

§ 119. Apjplication of these views to sciences having rela- 
tion to human conduct. 

Looking at the constitution of the human mind in this 
point of view, we perceive a foundation for some remarks 
of D'Israeli. — " The aruspex," says this interesting wri- 
ter, " the augur, and the astrologer, have vanished with 
their own superstitions; but the moral and the political 
predictor, proceeding on principles authorized by nature 
and experience, has become more skilful in his observa- 
tions on the phenomena of human history; and it has 
often happened that a tolerable philosopher has not made 
an indifferent prophet.'^ 

Proceeding to apply this remark of D'Israeli, the im- 
port of which is, that, by means of a philosophic notice of 
phenomena in the past, we may gain a prophetic insight 
into the future, we may lay down the doctrine that all 
sciences, which have reference to the conduct of men 



AS APPLICABLE TO THE WILL. 201 

prospectively, are based upon the doctrine that the Will 
is subject to law, particularly the law of uniformity. 
Such are the sciences of Moral Philosophy, Political Phi- 
losophy, Political Economy, and International Law ; the 
doctrine of Crimes and Punishments ; the laws of Com- 
merce and Exchange ; and, in general, all sciences and 
forms of knowledge which involve the prospective analy- 
sis and regulation of human conduct. It is the object of 
these sciences, not only to tell us what men have done in 
certain circumstances in times past, but what they are 
expected to do in time to come, what it is then- duty to 
do, and what they will do. 

Political Philosophy, for instance, has exhibited almost 
every possible variety of phasis, and asserted and maintain- 
ed almost every possible variety of sentiment, according as 
the waiters have been the subjects of free or despotic states, 
or have been the advocates or opposers of a particular 
course of policy. The reader will at once call to mind the 
Republic and other political treatises of Plato, the De Re- 
publica of Cicero, the Prince of Machiavel, the Oceana of 
Harrington, the Leviathan of Hobbes, the Social Contract 
of Rousseau, the Spirit of Laws of Montesquieu, the Dis- 
courses of Sidney, the Federalist ; not to mention a multi- 
tude of other treatises of greater or less celebrity. It may 
be the case, that not one of these various treatises fully 
agrees with another ; and it is very certain that in many 
things they are very variant and conflicting ; but still there 
is in all, at the bottom, this fmidamental principle, that 
human conduct, in its almost endless variety of develope- 
ment, may be referred to principles inherent in the mental 
constitution and of universal application. In this particu- 
lar, and so far as has now been asserted, writers are in 
harmony who in other things are infinitely apart j the sla- 



202 THE LAW OF UNIFORMITY. 

vish Hobbes with the patriotic Sidney, and Machiavel 
and Necker with Montesquieu and Madison. 

§ 120. On the 'practical tendency of the general doctrine 
of law in its application to the Will. 

We might carry the view of the subject which now 
presents itself to oui' notice into other particulars. We 
might illustrate it, for instance, from the science of Polit- 
ical Economy, which deals as much, by implication at 
least, with the constitution of the human mind, as it does 
with lands, machinery, rents, manufactures, and capital. 
We might inquire, furthermore, on what principle it is, 
that the orator who addresses an assembled multitude 
foresees and estimates mth almost entire certainty the re- 
sults of his efforts. And we should find everywhere very 
striking evidence of the fact, that the law of Uniformity 
embraces in its applications the human Will. Perhaps, 
however, enough has been said, both in respect to the 
more general doctrine that the will has its laws, and also 
in the specification and enumeration of them. There re- 
mains only a word or tw^o more in respect to its practical 
applications. 

We are not to regard this truth as practically unimpor- 
tant. Far from it. In a moral and religious point of 
view particularly, it is pne of great value. It is no dis- 
honour to it, that, while it does not deprive us of freedom, 
it nevertheless keeps us in subordination. It is in this 
simple proposition of the Will's subjection to law that we 
find the golden link which binds us to the throne of God. 
If my Will is not subject to Law, then God is not my 
master. And, what is more, he is not only not so in fact, 
but it is impossible that he should be so. — ^But, on the 



NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 203 

other hand ,lf my Will is not. independent in th€ sense of 
being beyond the reach of law, then the hand of the Al- 
mighty is upon me, and I cannot escape even if I would. 
The searching eye of the great Author of all things ever 
attends my path; and whether I love or hate, obey or 
rebel, I never can annul his authority or evade his juris- 
diction. 



CHAPTER Vm. 

NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

§ 121. Of motives and their bearing upon the general 
doctrine of the loilPs subjection to law. 

In what has been said hitherto in this part of our 
work, our elForts have been directed almost exclusively 
to the single matter of shovsdng that the will has its 
LAWSo In connexion wdth the main subject, however, and 
in illustration of the principal topic of discussion, we have 
had occasion to point out speciiically what some of the 
Will's laws are. We are aware that, in support of the 
leading doctrine which has been before us, we have given 
little more than the outlines of an argument, and that in 
its details it might have been prosecuted at much greater 
length. And yet we are unable to renounce the conviction, 
that it establishes the important position in question, even 
in the imperfect form in which it has been presented. 
Certainly, if we did not think so, we should not consider 
it worth while to advance any further in our investigations ; 
for if we did not feel confident that our own Will is sub- 



204 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

ject to laws, we could not for a moment indulge the ex- 
pectation of the accomplishment of any proposed purpose 
or plan whatever. 

In enumerating the laws of the Will, it will be recol- 
lected as one of the positions laid down, that the Will 
never acts, and volitions never exist, except in connexion 
with Motives. We must here recur to the subject of Mo- 
tives again, as presenting one of the most interesting and 
important matters of inquiry in mental philosophy, par- 
ticularly in the philosophy of the Will. The doctrine of 
Motives is very closely connected, in a number of re- 
spects, with the general doctrine of the Will's subjection 
to law. In fact, motives seem to be at the foundation of 
the laws of Causality and Uniformity, and to reveal very 
naturally their precise nature and extent, 

§ 122. Of the division of motives into Internal and 
External. 

It is necessary, in order to have a thorough knowledge 
of Motives, to contemplate them in various points of 
view. Considered, in the first place, in reference to their 
origin, they are susceptible of being divided into the two 
classes of Internal and External. — By the internal we 
mean motives as they exist in the mind itself, the various 
forms of the appetites, those higher sentient principles 
which may be denominated the propensities, and the va- 
rious kinds and degrees of the affections, together with 
all motives within us of a moral nature. It is certain, 
that, in some important sense of the expressions, all mo- 
tives, at least before they can reach and effect the Will, 
must exist in the mind, although there are grounds for 
speaking of their antecedent and separate existence in 



NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 205 

outward objects. — (2.) By external motives we mean all 
those which are placed external to the mind, and are lo- 
cated, if the expression may be allowed, in outward things. 
All external objects, which excite within us either appro- 
bation or disapprobation, joy or sorrow ; all such outward 
objects as are supposed to have a connexion either with 
our worldly prosperity or our dut}^, operate upon us as mo- 
tives.* It is true, they influence us through the medium 
of our mental nature, the emotions, passions, and moral 
powers ; but as the influence exercised may be traced to 
them as the ultimate subjects, there is a degree of propri- 
ety in designating them as motives. Outward motives, 
in the sense of the term as just explained, are innumera- 
ble, presenting themselves to our notice on all sides, in 
all the various aspects of creation, and in all the endless 
forms of himian enterprise. 

§ 123. External motives derive their efficacy from the 
mind. 

Although all objects without us, and all external ac- 
tions may, imder different circumstances and in diflferent 
degrees, exist as motives, still it is impossible for us to re- 
gard such external objects or actions as having a value to 
ourselves or a character of any kind, except it be in ref- 
erence to those feelings which the contemplation of them 

* Note. — External motives may also properly be called Objective mo- 
tives ; as, on the other hand, the Internal might perhaps be called Sub- 
jective. Objective motives are what we have in other places described 
as the OBJECTS of volition. And such is their precise nature. That is 
to say, they are in themselves mere objects, intellectually perceived, and 
nothing more. And it is only in connexion with, and in accommoda- 
tion to certain subsequent mental facts, that they are called motives. 

s 



206 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

excites in oui' own minds. Abstracted from the internal 
feelings, of which they are' the antecedents and cause, 
they are all equally indifferent. It is our own emotions 
and desires, therefore, reflected back upon all external 
objects and actions of whatever kind, which infuse into 
them their qualities of beauty or deformity, of unworthi- 
ness or excellence, and give them their power, whatever 
it may be, in relation to the vfill. 

It would not be a difficult task, it is presumed, to ad- 
duce instances illustrating and confirming these views. 
As an example, a war is announced in Europe, and the 
merchant winds up his accounts and detains his vessels at 
home. The war is his motive for so doing. Subsequent- 
ly there is a false report of war in Europe, which he be- 
lieves to be true, and he pursues the same course as be- 
fore. In both these cases, the internal belief, combined 
with his fears, gives to the motive, as the Avar would be 
considered, its whole effecto In the latter case, it consti- 
tutes it entirely, as the reported war is only a fiction. 

Again, riches, w^hether in the form of lands or of gold 
and silver, or in any other form, constitute a powerful 
motive. But it is vain to presume that the common dust 
on which we tread, or even the brightest masses of ore it 
contains, inherit and possess in themselves a power to 
keep men constantly in action, to carry them from land to 
land, and from sea to sea. It is the mind itself which in- 
vests them with attributes that render them so eflfective, 
Men see in them the means of the enjoyments they covet ; 
the means of influence among their fellows ; the source 
of honour and power. So that if riches are one of the 
most efficient motives that can be presented to the human 
Will, it is the heart, the soul, which makes them so. 
Since you have only to place the man, who desired them 



NATURE ANT) KINDS OF MOTIVES. 207 

SO much, on his death-bed ; you have only to show him 
that his piles of treasure can no longer purchase honour, 
influence, enjoyment, not even an hour of life, not even 
exemption from a single pain, and then riches are no long- 
er a motive. He turns away from them with feelings of 
indifference, and possibly of disgust. 

§ 124. The character of motives depends in part on the 
constitutional traits of the individual. 

Although all objects, which are presented to the mind 
in the shape and relation of External motives, undergo a 
modification in their progress towards the region of the 
Will, it may not be unimportant to remark, that this mod- 
ification will be very various in different individuals, ac- 
cording to their predominant mental traits. We will 
suppose, as an example, that the same object is presented 
to the notice of two individuals ; the one possessed of 
dull and restricted, the other of quick and comprehensive 
powers of reasoning. The object may appear diminutive 
and unimportant to the former, and probably will appear 
so, because his powers of reasoning are not expansive 
enough to embrace it in all its relations and consequen- 
ces ; while the same object will appear, for an opposite 
reason, exceedingly magnified and important to the latter. 

And again, select two other persons, whose reasoning 
powers closely resemble each other, and are, in fact, entire- 
ly the same, but whose sensibilities are constitutionally 
different ; the one, a person intensely susceptible of vivid 
and strong emotions and desires ; the other, on the con- 
trary, possessed of a sluggish and phlegmatic tempera- 
ment. Now we will suppose that the exciting object or 
motive, whatever it is, comes from the reasoning or in- 



208 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

tellectual part of their constitution to the sentient or sen- 
sitive part with the same dimensions; in other words, 
as it exists in the understanding, and as it passes from the 
understanding to the heart, it appears to both of these 
persons precisely ahke ; but in the former case, that of 
the man of vivid sensibihties, it at once becomes heated 
and expanded, as if placed in the focus of a powerful 
lensj Avhile in the latter it remains cold and withered 
and torpid, as if under the blighting influences of a wintry 
frost. 

§ 125. Their character depends in part on temporary in- 
fluences. 

And this is not all. Every one knows that we are 
subject to temporary influences, sometimes not easily ex- 
plicable. At one time we are animated by encouraging 
aspirations and joyous hopes, and everything is clothed 
in brightness ; and shortly after we are sad and depress- 
ed, and all objects appear to be invested with gloom. 
The motives, which call upon us to resolve and to act, 
appear very variously under such circumstances. In the 
season of our joyousness, the light of om- minds attaches 
itself to the various outward objects that are presented 
before them, and they shine like illuminated points, like 
guiding stars. In the season of our despondency and 
sorrow, they fall from the zenith with dimmed or extin- 
guished beams, and we no longer heed them. 

And all these various circumstances, and the changes 
which are consequent upon them, ought to be taken into 
consideration. — Motives, as they exist outwardly and in- 
dependently of the understanding, are as different from 
what they are subsequently, when they have passed un- 



NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 209 

der the notice and review of the intellect, as the rich and 
diversified colours, when they are refracted and separated 
by the prism, are from the pale and uniform light in 
which they were previously latent. There is even a 
greater difference than is implied in this comparison ; for 
they are not only, at their first appearance in the mind, 
subject to he altered by the intellect, as to their extent 
and relations, but in their further progress they seem to 
be peneti'ated and inspired with an actual vitality, a prin- 
ciple of life derived from the actual infusion and min- 
gling of the sensibilities. So that, if we may be permitted 
another illustration from material objects, motives in their 
modification are as different from what they are in their 
primitive, outward, or objective state, as the colours of a 
skilful painter, when they are laid on the canvass in form 
and proportion, and are made instinct with life and intel- 
ligence, are from the same colours when standing crude 
and massive in his paint vessels. — Such is the transforma- 
tion to which outward or External motives, as they are 
denominated, are subject in their progress through the 
mind ; but the amount and degree of this transformation 
will not only depend upon the general structure of the 
mind, but will be found to vary in different persons and 
under different situations. 

§ 126. Further division of motives into JYatural or Per- 
sonal, and Moral. 

Motives may not only be divided into the two classes of 
External and Internal, but are susceptible of the yet far- 
ther division into the Natural and Moral. Natural mo- 
tives (or Personal motives, as they might perhaps proper- 
ly be termed) are such, and such only, as are found in the 
S 2 



210 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

Natural Sensibilities ; that portion of the mind which we 
have especial reference to when we use the term Heart. 
Moral motives are such as are found, and found only, in 
the Moral Sensibilities ; that portion of the mind which 
we have especial reference to when we use the term Con- 
science. Natural motives, therefore, as vdll be better un- 
derstood by referring to the distinctions which were made 
in the volume on the Sensibilities, appear in the general 
forms of the various Appetites, Propensities, and Af- 
fections. They involve, as an essential characteristic, the 
feeling of desire ; and aim exclusively, even in their most 
generous and benevolent tendencies, at some form of 
Natural good. Moral motives, on the contrary, always 
involve, as their characteristic, the feeling of moral obli- 
gation ; and the object at which they aim (irrespective 
of the claims of interest, either our own interest or that 
of others) is Moral good or Rectitude. So that, if we 
thought it necessary to be very specific in our nomencla- 
ture, we might call them respectively the Desirive and the 
Obligative motives. Psychologically, therefore, there is a 
real and deeply-drawn distinction between these two 
classes of motives. In other words, it is a constitutional, 
and not a mere artificial or factitious distinction, introdu- 
ced without a reference to the real developements and 
facts of nature. 

§ 127. Further statements illustrative of the distinction 
between natural and moral motives. 

As this distinction of Motives into the Natural or Per- 
sonal, and the Moral, (or, more specifically and philo- 
sophically, into the Desirive and Obligative,) is evidently 
an important one, it may be proper to make a few general 



NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 211 

Statements further, with the hope of throwing some addi- 
tional light upon them. — We proceed to say, therefore, 
that Natural or Personal motives operate within a limited 
sphere appropriate to themselves, and, in general, easily 
ascertainable. Moral motives, on the contrary, acknowl- 
edge no limits short of the universe, eternit^^, and the 
boundless range of duties from the finite to the infinite. 
Personal motives go no farther than to include whatever 
relates, either in its origin or its results, to ourselves, to- 
gether with what relates to others, considered as the mere 
objects of our natural sympathy, affection, or aversion. 
Moral motives extend themselves to all cases and occa- 
sions of action whatever, whether relating to ourselves or 
others, to the present or the future, to time or eternity ; in 
a word, to every variety and possibility of human action, 
so far as the action is a voluntary one. Personal motives 
are in part implanted and constitutional, and of course 
are, to some extent, instinctive in their operation. Mor- 
al motives, on the contrary, removed at the farthest pos- 
sible distance from anything of an instinctive nature, are 
not capable of any operation or of any existence in- 
dependently of the reasoning power ; but always exist 
and act in connexion with that power. Personal motives, 
so far as they are not properly constitutional or instinct- 
ive, but are based upon the deductions of reasoning, al- 
ways prompt us to act for certain things, as has already 
been intimated, simply and exclusively because those 
things appear desirable, either for ourselves or others. 
Moral motives, on the other hand, always prompt us to 
act for certain things, simply because they are right, 
whatever personal bearing they may have either on our- 
selves or others. These two classes of motives are not 
only distinguished by a diflference in the range of their 



212 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

operations, and in the view which they take of objects, 
but also in the particular of their comparative rank and 
authority. Personal motives, whether they are selfish or 
benevolent, whether they prompt us to act for the good 
of others or our own good, are obviously amenable to the 
higher authority and control of the moral class. Moral 
motives are analogous, to some extent at least, to the faith 
which Christianity exacts from us in the promises of God, 
since they require men, with an authoritative voice, to go 
forward in the fulfilment of certain proposed actions, 
whatever distresses and darkness may beset their path. 
Men, when called upon to act in view of motives of this 
kind, are not permitted to inquire whether it would be 
pleasing to their natural desires and affections, whether 
their love or hatred is concerned, whether the proposed 
course of conduct involves their benefit or their injury ; 
but are presented with the simple and only alternative 
of acquiescence or resistance, of obedience or disobedi- 
ence, without regard to the consequences in any shape 
whatever. 

§ 128. Motives coextensive vnth volitions. 

In examining the subject of motives, it is one remark 
obvious to be made, that volitions never exist independ- 
ently of motives. Whenever there is that act of the mind 
which we term a volition, there is an antecedent state of 
the mind, constituting the cause (by which we mean the 
antecedent condition, preparative, or occasion) of the vo- 
lition, which we term the motive. By the constitution of 
the mind itself they go together, and are inseparably con- 
nected. In other words, volitions exist upon the occa- 
sions wliich the motives present. Be careful, however, 



NATUEE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 213 

to remember that they are not made, not created by these 
occasions ; but that, in virtue of the power which God 
has seen fit to impart to the human Will, they exist in 
connexion with them, and never without them. But we 
have already had occasion to refer to this subject, and 
will not expend time upon a point on which there will 
probably be found no difference of opinion. Mr. Stewart 
mentions this as one of the principles on which the con- 
flicting parties on the subject of the Will are agreed. 
Some of his remarks are as follows. — " Every action is 
performed with some view, or, in other words, is per- 
formed with some motive. Dr. Reid, indeed, denies this 
with zeal, but I am doubtful if he has strengthened his 
cause by doing so ; for he confesses that the actions which 
are performed without motives are perfectly trifling and 
insignificant, and not such as lead to any general conclu- 
sion concerning the merit or demerit of moral agents. I 
should, therefore, rather be disposed to yield this point 
than to dispute a proposition not materially connected 
with the question at issue. One thing is clear and indis- 
putable, that it is only in so far as a man acts from mo- 
tives or intentions, that he is entitled to the character of a 
rational being."* 

This view, that motives are coexistent with volitions, 
tends to confirm the general doctrine that the Will is 
subject to laws, and is itself a law. If the existence of 
motives in some form or other, either personal or moral, 
either in the shape of our interest or om' duty, is the in- 
dispensable condition of any action of the voluntary pow- 
er, it certainly cannot be said, with any degree of cor- 
rectness, that the action of the Will is wholly a contingent 
and unrestrained one. 

* Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Appendix i., ^ ii. 



214 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 



§ 129. Nature of the influence of motives. 

In consequence of this fixed connexion between the vo- 
lition and the motive, involving the undeniable fact that 
the volition is, in some sense of the term, dependent on 
the antecedent motive, we find, in the use of language, 
certain expressions and modes of expression, which are 
deserving of notice, such as, " motives influence the will," 
" motives govern the will," " volitions are caused by mo- 
tives," " volitions are controlled by motives," &c. What 
we wish to observe in respect to these and other equiva- 
lent expressions is, that, although in common parlance 
they may often be convenient, they are to be received 
Vidth some restriction in all inquiries into the will aiming 
at philosophical accuracy. 

If, for instance, it be asserted that motives cause voli- 
tions, as it not unfrequently is, we are undoubtedly requi- 
red, by all sound inquiry, to exclude from the expression 
the idea of direct efficiency. The causation spoken of is 
not, properly speaking, cedent. The word cause, in this 
case, (if we wish to announce the fact, and the fact only,) 
can mean nothing more than the preparatory condition, 
circumstance, or occasion ; a sort of antecedent incident 
to that which takes place. It is the more important to 
keep this remark in mind, since, ^vithout the qualification 
implied in it, it may be difficult to perceive how man can 
be regarded as a free and accountable agent. Accord- 
ingly, whenever we speak of motives as influencing, con- 
trolling, or causing volition, it is to be understood that we 
mean merely to express the simple and unquestioned fact 
of their being conditions preparatory and prerequisite to 
the will's action. With this import of the terms, we ob- 



NATUUK AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 215 

viously, in such cases, assert that which is true, and which, 
as a truth, is important to be known and to be reahzed ; 
and, at the same time, assert nothing which is inconsist- 
ent with moral liberty and accountability. 

§ 130. Of the wilVs being governed by the strongest 
motive. 

It is sometimes said that the will is governed by the 
strongest motive, and is necessarily so governed ; or. sta- 
ted in another manner perhaps less exceptionable, that 
the wili acts in view of the strongest motive, and necessa- 
rily so acts. Although this proposition, which has the 
appearance of being a self-evident one, and perhaps is so, 
has sometimes been adduced, with great confidence, in 
support of the general doctrine that the will has its laws; 
it wall be perceived that we have not availed ourselves, 
in the discussion of that subject, of the aid, more or less, 
which it may be supposed to furnish. We fully believed 
that there were arp;uments enouo-h, and more than enouo;h, 
without relying upon this proposition ; saying nothing of 
the probability that the proposition itself would be found, 
on examination, liable to some strictures and exceptions. 
The views we entertain in regard to it are briefly these. 

(1.) The epithet strong, and also its comparative forms 
STRONGER and STRONGEST, imply something relative. They 
unquestionably indicate a comparison with something else 
which is weak or which is less strong. The proposition, 
therefore, that the will always and invariably acts in con- 
formity with the strongest motive, acknowledges the idea, 
and is based upon it, that motives are truly susceptible of 
a comparison with each other. And this is the fact. — 
(2,) Motives may be compared together in two ways, and 



216 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

in only two ways, viz., either directly by themselves, or 
indirectly by means of their results. Accordingly, all 
motives of the same kind (for instance, all those which 
have been classed together and arranged under the one 
head of natural or personal motives, and which are 
characterized by desire, or, rather, when properly analy- 
zed, are nothing more nor less than DEsmEs themselves) 
are undoubtedly susceptible of a comparison with each 
other ; not remotely merely, but directly and immediately. 
The same consciousness, which assures us of the existence 
of the motives themselves, indicates clearly the difference 
of their intensity or strength ; and we can say with a de- 
gree of precision, and with a full understanding of what 
is meant, that one motive is deeper, or more intense, or 
stronger than another, when such motives are the sole, 
exclusive, and direct subjects of comparison. — This is a 
matter of consciousness. And if all the motives which 
exist and operate in the human breast were the same in 
kind, it would also be a matter of consciousness, and, as 
such, it would be a primary and undeniable truth that the 
acts of the Will are always in conformity with the strong- 
est motive. The proposition then would have meaning 
and be unanswerable ; and, to the full extent implied in 
these remarks, such is the case at present. But still it is 
not a universal one, and it therefore seems to us to be de- 
fective, when brought as an argimient in illustration of 
the absolute and universal nature of the Will. — (3.) Mo-, 
tives which belong to different classes or kinds (for in- 
stance, the class of personal and the class of moral mo- 
tives) are not the subjects of direct comparison. They 
are radically and entirely distinct from each other ; and 
there is no more possibility of their being brought into 
direct juxtaposition and comparison, than there is of other 



^^AILRE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 217 

things entirely distinct from each other, such as associa- 
tion anci behef, memory and perception, sympathy and 
hatred, or a circle and a square, red and white, &c. As 
natural motives can be analyzed into desires, so moral 
motives can be analyzed mio feelings of moral obligation 
And can anything be more different, not merely in de- 
gree, but kind, than mere desires and feelings of obliga- 
tion ? The way, then, and the only way, in which we 
can compare moral motives with natural or personal 
motives, (or, to speak more specifically and accurately, 
the Desirive motive with the Obligatory or Obligative,) 
which are entirely distinct from each other in kind, is 
thi'ough the medium of their bearing and results upon the 
Will. If the Will acts in conformity with the moral mo- 
tive, we say that the moral motive is the strongest ; if it 
acts in conformity with the pereonal motive, we assert the 
reverse. But if the result (that is to say, the volition^ is 
the measure of the intensity, when motives, differing in 
kind, are compared together, then, in all cases of this de- 
scription, to say that the Will is governed by the strong- 
est motive, is an identical proposition, and imports the 
same as to say that the Will is governed by the motive 
by which it is governed. 

If we reflect carefully upon the foregoing statement, 
we shall undoubtedly find it to be so. , When one motive 
is designated as the strongest, in comparison with another 
differing in kind, it is because the will acts in conformity 
with such motive. In all such cases, therefore, the strength 
of the motive is not a thing which is ascertained and 
measured in itself through the medium of our conscious- 
ness, but is relative to the fact of the Will's being gov- 
erned by the motive, as it is commonly expressed. But 
if the fact of the Will's being governed by a particular 

T 



218 NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 

motive, and that circumstance alone (which seems at 
least to be the case in respect to all motives differing in 
kind) ascertains such motive to be the strongest, then 
certainly the declaration that the Will is governed by the 
strongest motive, is, in effect, the same thing as to say 
that the will is governed by the motive by which it is 
governed. And it is self-evident that such a proposition, 
which may be resolved into one of still greater celebrity, 
viz., WHATEVER IS, IS, Can prove nothing in respect to the 
true and universal nature of the Will. 

§ 131. Of the elements of the contest toithin. 

What has been said in this Chapter, opens, in various 
respects, an impressive and fruitful view of man's charac- 
ter. We find in the two classes of motives, the natural 
or PERSONAL on the one hand, and the moral on the other, 
in the strivings of Desire and the pressures of Obligation, 
the basis of an internal hostility, renewable every day and 
every hour. Eveiy man's bosom may be regarded as a 
species of moral battle-field continually set in array. Here 
is the fountain of sweet and of bitter waters. Here is the 
theatre of that contest which the Apostle so feelingly de- 
scribes, " a law in the members warring against the law 
of the mind ;" and which, in its dark and trying mo- 
ments, compelled him to cry out in anguish, " Oh, wretch- 
ed man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of 
this death ?" Here is the seat of virtues, which assimi- 
late us to angels and prepare us for glory ; and of vices, 
which liken us to spirits of darkness, and are the forerun- 
ners of everlasting shame and contempt. Principles of 
eternal opposition, the Oromazes and Arimanius of the 
enigmatical philosophy of the Persians, are shut up to- 



NATURE AND KINDS OF MOTIVES. 219 

gether, destined to contend with a strife which cannot 
cease, till the one or the other is brought into subjection. 
This statement is not more philosophically than histori- 
cally true. The history of the human race, as well as 
the philosophy of the hmnan mind, sustains it. And it is 
this view which is given more or less clearly in every part 
of the Bible, from the temptation and the sin of Eden, 
to the history of the Seven Churches of the Apocalypse. 
It must be obvious, even to the most casual observer, that 
men are everywhere represented in the Scriptures as en- 
dued with capacities of right and wrong, of moral good 
and evil; as placed in a state of probation and trial, which 
is preparatory to another state of existence ; and as ex- 
hibiting in their hearts and lives, at one time, the predom- 
inance of vice, and at another, the ascendency of virtue. 
And it is an interesting consideration, that the eye of 
God and the eye of angels (to say nothing of the watch- 
ful solicitude of the prince and the powers of darkness) 
is intently fixed on this belligerant attitude, this striving 
and concussion of the mental elements. And happy is 
he who fully understands the nature and the consequen- 
ces of this great contest; the duty and the rewards on 
the one hand, and the sin and the danger on the other I 
And thrice happy if he carries on the contest, in all its 
vicissitudes, and in all its length and breadth, with a 
humble reliance for vdsdom and strength on that Bright- 
ness of the Father's glory, who made himself of no rep- 
utation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and 
was made in the hkeness of men, and was tempted in 

ALL POINTS AS WE ARE, AND YET WITHOUT SIN. 



PART HI. 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL 



CHAPTER I. 

NATUKE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

§ 132. Of hodily in distinction from mental freedom. 

Having thus, in the second Part of this Work, assigned 
GUI' reasons in support of the proposition, that the will 
HAS ITS LAWS, and having, in connexion Math the main 
topic, indicated what some of these laws are, we next 
naturally proceed to consider the subject of its Freedom ; 
a subject of perhaps equal importance and difficulty, and 
resting upon its own appropriate and specific grounds. — 
It has sometunes been the method of writers on the Free- 
dom of the will to introduce the subject ^vith remarks in 
illustration of what may be termed hodily, in distinction 
from mental freedom. Although there is no such analo- 
gy between mental and bodily freedom as to enable us 
to diffuse much light from one to the other, it may not be 
lost time to offer a few remarks in explanation of what is 
meant by freedom of the latter kind. — Bodily freedom 
appears to consist in an exemption from any restraint on 
the corporeal action. So far as we are capable of put- 
ting forth any outward action at all, in accordance with 
some antecedent volition, so far are w^e in the actual pos- 
session and enjoyment of corporeal liberty. — And, on the 
other hand, inability of corporeal action, where the voli- 
tion prompts us to make the attempt, may be regarded as 
a sort of slavery of the body. Accordingly, he who is 
shut up within the massy walls and doors of a prison, 



224 NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

which he cannot possibly pass ; he who is the subject of 
a weakening and paralyzing disease, which confines hinf 
to his chamber and his bed ; he who is throw^n from a 
precipice, and, in his descent, is obviously incapable of a 
contrary or upward motion ; and all others in a like situ- 
ation, whether it be from an abstraction of their personal 
power or the presence of some outward impediment, may 
with propriety be described, to the extent of their ina- 
bility to conform their outward actions to the requisitions 
of the Will, as destitute of freedom ; or, what is the same 
thing, as the subjects of necessity or enthralment, in the 
bodily or corporeal sense of enthralment or freedom. 

And this is all we have to say on the subject, because, 
according to the views we entertain in relation to it, 
bodily freedom or enthralment, which is a matter perfect- 
ly well understood and beyond all reach of controversy, 
throws no light at all, or, at least, but a feeble ray, upon 
the nature of the enthralment or liberty of the mind. 

§ 133. Of unsuccessful attempts to explain the nature of 
freedom. 

Accordingly, for the reason above intimated, it will be 
imderstood, that in what we have to say of Freedom, we 
mean freedom or liberty of the mind. Mental freedom 
has a nature appropriate to itself; it possesses an identity 
and a character of its own ; it stands apart and glorious 
in its own essentiality ; and is not only an entirely dis- 
tinct thing, but is as much more important than any mere 
corporeal liberty as the mind is more important than the 
body. 

In discussing the subject of the freedom of the mind, 
(a phrase which we use as entirely synonymous with lib- 



NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 225 

erty of the mind,) the inquiry first presenting itself is, 
what are we to understand by the term freedom ? This 
is a question which seems to have been asked, and to have 
ehcited more or less attention in almost every age of the 
world. It is probably no exaggeration to say, that many 
volumes have been written in illustration of the import 
of this single term. The prolific suggestions of the ima- 
gination, and the ingenious speculations of the reasoning 
power, have been put in requisition for this purpose. And 
if, to a considerable degree, all these efforts have proved 
unsuccessful, may we not suppose that it is owing, in part 
at least, to mistaken methods of inquiry ? Or, perhaps, 
if right methods have been pursued, the limits, which in 
the nature of things intercept and restrict their successful 
application, may not have been fully perceived. Certain 
it is, whatever flattering anticipations may be entertained, 
and justly entertained too, of the progress of the human 
mind, there are some limits which it cannot pass. And 
perhaps it is a charitable supposition, that many writers 
on this subject, in consequence of imperfect apprehensions 
of the boundaries encircling and restricting the efforts of 
the intellect, have attempted too much, and have there- 
fore failed in satisfactorily establishing anything. 

§ 134. Freedom, considered as an element of thought 
rather than as a thing in actual realization, is the name 
of a simple abstract idea. 

We have the authority of Mr. Locke for saying (a po- 
sition in which he is amply sustained by other waiters on 
the Philosophy of the Mind) that all our ideas may be 
divided into the two classes of Simple and Complex. 
Accordingly, when we have fixed our attention upon any 



226 NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

distinct subject of contemplation, and have resolved it 
into its parts, and have distinctly traced those parts to a 
position where there is no longer a possibility of a sep- 
aration of them, we have then reached a boundaiy of 
analysis which it is not within the capacity of the human 
mind to go beyond. The elements of thought, which 
are disclosed in the issue of such a process, are entirely 
SIMPLE. Truly elementary and ultimate, they are deposit- 
ed as deeply and strongly in the foundations of the edi- 
fice of intellectual perception, as it is possible for them to 
be. They are to be regarded, therefore, as constituting 
knowledge, and that, too, of the highest kind, although it 
is equally true that they are not susceptible of explana- 
tion, and that the person, who does not know them of 
himself and by virtue of his own mental action, can never 
know them from any other source. 

And, in accordance with these views, our first remark 
in illustration of the nature of freedom or liberty is, that 
the term, w^hen it is used abstractly, and as expressive of 
an intellectual perception rather than of a thing in actual 
realization, is the name of a simple thought or idea, the 
knowledge of which we can derive from the mind itself 
alone. This remark we consider of no small importance, 
since it has a direct bearing on all attempts at a verbal 
explanation of the term ; and indicates the possibility of 
such attempts being utterly futile. In taking this view, 
which we fully believe to be the only correct one, we are 
not wholly without the concurrence and authority of other 
writers. " La liberie, (says Thery, in a Treatise in the 
French language on this subject,) est indetermine meme 
Comme tout ce qui est simple, elle ne pent se dejiner" 



NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 227 



§ 135. Occasions of the origin of the abstract idea of 
liberty. 

But in respect to all abstract notions or thoughts, (and 
the mere idea or conception of liberty is one of this kind,) 
there are two questions naturally presenting themselves ; 
the one just now remarked upon, whether the notion is 
simple or complex ; the other, what is the occasion on 
which it arises ? The occasion, on which the abstract idea 
of Freedom is suggested to the intellect and becomes a 
part of our knowledge, is nothing else than the mind's 
action itself, in those favoured moments when its opera- 
tions are in fact free. At such times we of course have 
a consciousness of what is in reality the fact, viz., of the 
mind's operating in the prescribed sphere of its action, 
without impediment or hinderance. And it is then that 
the abstract idea or notion of freedom arises or is evolved 
(if we may be so allowed to speak) by what may ap- 
propriately be called the power of Original Suggestion, 
in the same manner as the abstract ideas of existence, 
identity, duration, space, intelligence, power, right, wrong, 
and a considerable number of others. . 

The fact and realization of our existence is the occa- 
sion, on which the abstract idea of existence or being in 
general is brought up, (or to employ what may be called 
the technical term in the case,) is suggested to the mind. 
The fact and the realization of power in ourselves is the 
occasion on which the abstract notion of power, which 
every one distinctly possesses, is suggested. And, in like 
manner, whenever there is liberty of the mind in fact and 
in actual realization, we are so constituted that we are 
always, and without any effort on our own part, put in 
distinct possession of the abstract idea of liberty. 



228 NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 



§ 136. Of the undefinableness of the term freedom. 

Now if such be the origin of the abstract notion of free- 
dom, and if it be the name of a simple and not a complex 
idea, (as certainly there is every reason to believe it to be 
so,) then every one who speaks of freedom, or enters into 
a discussion upon it, must be supposed to know of him- 
self what freedom is. Certain it is, if he pleads ignorance 
of the import of the term, we shall find ourselves wholly 
unable to make it known to him by any statements in 
language. It being the name of a simple idea, if we at- 
tempt to define it, we must necessarily employ synony- 
mous terms, and which require an explanation no less 
than the one in question. Every definition of the name 
of a simple idea, which is not a synonym of the word it- 
self or a synonymous phrase, is necessarily erroneous. 
Nature and truth never contradict themselves. And if 
it be true that the idea is simple, then any attempted 
analysis of it, which goes upon the supposition of its be- 
'ng complex, which is the case with all real in distinction 
from synonymous definitions, must evidently lead us into 
some mistake. And as to a synonym or synonymous 
phrase, it is entirely clear that it cannot give us any new 
light in the matter ; and, accordingly, we are necessarily 
thrown back upon our own experience for a knowledge 
of the thing under inquiry. 

§ 137. Supposed defnitions of freedom are either mere 
synonyms, or embrace some element which itself re- 
quires explanations. 

It may perhaps be useful to introduce one or two in- 
stances of definitions, w^hich have been given by leading 



NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. S29 

writers on the subject, in illustration and proof of our re- 
mark, that the term in question cannot be defined. Mr. 
Hobbes defines it as follows. " Liberty is the absence of 
all impediments to action, that are not contained in the 
nature and intrinsic quality of the agent." But the 
plirase absence of all impediments is obviously synony- 
mous with liberty, and conveys no new idea. So that 
the definition, substituting other terms, amounts to this, 
and this only, that freedom is that liberty to action which 
is contained in or permitted by the nature and intrinsic 
quality of the agent. 

Buffier gives the following definition. " Liberty is the 
disposition a man feels within himself, of his capacity to 
act or not to act, to choose or not to choose a thing, at 
the same moment." Here the term capacity appears to 
be the sjoionymous expression. So that if we carefully 
reflect upon this definition, we shall probably find it 
amounting to merely this: Liberty is the consciousness 
a man has of his freedom to act or not to act, to choose 
or not to choose. And if we suppose the term capacity 
is not synonymous with liberty, it still remains a matter 
of doubt what precise idea it conveys. And the mind, 
consequently, remains unsatisfied. 

Xhe definition given by Dr. Reid is this. "By the 
liberty of a moral agent, I understand a power over the 
determinations of his own Will." It is difficult to make 
anything of this definition, because it seems to imply the 
existence of a Volitive power or Will back of that, whose 
decisions are the immediate precursors of our actions. If 
it do not imply this, then all that is meant is, that the lib- 
erty of a moral agent is his power to put forth voluntary 
determinations or acts of the will. And in that case, 
POWER is the synonymous expression ; and, of course, 

U 



230 NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

gives us no new light in the case. And if it be not so, 
the difficulty is not at all removed ; for, if we suppose the 
term power to have a distinct meaning from liberty, that 
idea or meaning, whatever it may be, is simple and un- 
definable. 

But it is unnecessary to remark further. According to 
the best reflections we have been able to bestow, it is al- 
together useless to give a definition of liberty, because it 
is, in the natm^e of the case, impossible to do it ; and is 
unadvisable also, because every supposed definition, so far 
from settling the subject, has been generally found to 
leave it open to long controversies and disputes. 

§ 138. Distinction between the idea and reality of liberty. 

But a distinction is to be made, which has already been 
hinted at, between the mere notion, the abstract idea of 
freedom, and freedom itself; between the conception of 
it as an object of thought, and the possession of it as a 
reality and a matter of personal expenence. We may 
have the abstract idea of freedom just as we have the ab- 
stract conception of power ; and we may reason upon the 
abstraction of freedom just as we reason upon the abstract 
idea or abstraction of power, without possessing either 
freedom or power in ourselves. 

The idea of liberty in the abstract is the result, the 
suggestion, or the creature even, of what is sometimes 
called the pure intellect ; that is to say, it is the result or 
suggestion of intellectual operations, which appear to be 
the most disconnected and removed from external materi- 
al impressions. And as such, it is truly an intellectual 
entity; a real and distinct object of contemplation, of 
knowledge, of reasoning. But, after all, it is to be noticed, 



NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 231 

that this is merely the idea of the thing, and not the thing 
itself J it is the intellectual representative of liberty, but 
not the experience and the reality of liberty ; it is that 
which the veriest mental slave may conceive of and may 
speculate upon, as an object nakedly and coldly suspend- 
ed in the distance ; but w^hich is very different from that 
which the person who actually possesses freedom, realizes 
as a thing near at hand, and enjoys as his own valued and 
personal possession. ■ 

§ 139. Of the source of our knowledge of liberty itself 
in distinction from the abstract idea of liberty. 

Of liberty in itself, in distinction from the abstract idea 
of liberty ; in other words, of freedom in the actual state 
of realization, we can have a knowledge by Conscious- 
ness, and by that alone. If a man (we speak now of 
the 7nind of man, and not of his body, and of the mind 
in a condition of mental soundness, and not in a state of 
either total or partial insanity) truly feels himself to be 
free, we seem to have no alternative but to take it for 
granted that he is so. This is something ultimate ; we 
cannot go beyond nor around it ; being based upon an 
original and ultimate feeling, it is, of course, founded in 
one of the deepest and surest sources of knowledge ; and 
we are under a sort of necessity, therefore, of admitting 
that the consciousness and the realization, the knowledge 
and the fact, go together. 

And, in connexion with this view, we shall not hesi- 
tate to assume, that each one is not only disposed to con- 
sult his consciousness, but to rely confidently on its inti- 
mations. We make this assumption, because we know of 
no other way in which it is possible for him, on a subject 



232 NATURE OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 

of this nature, to arrive at distinct and satisfactory con- 
clusions for himself, or to understand the statements of 
others. If freedom, in its essence and realization, is what 
it is known to be in our consciousness, and that, too, with- 
out the possibility of its being anything else, then surely, 
however difficult it may be to give a definition of the ab- 
stract idea of freedom, we may enter on the examination 
of the subject-matter before us with entire confidence, since 
it is one, according to the view now given, which neces- 
sarily comes within the range of each one's personal 
knowledge. 

§ 140. Of the precise import of the phrase moral liherty. 

We close the suggestions of this chapter with a single 
remai'k more. — It is not uncommon to hear persons using 
the phrase moral liberty ; and particularly in its applica- 
tions to man. But the thought naturally arises, what is 
the distinction between moral liberty and any other liber- 
ty ? To this inquiry it may be answered, that the phrase 
moral liberty indicates, not a difference in the essence of 
liberty or in the liberty itself, which we have reason to 
beheve is the same, so far as it exists at all, in all beings 
whatever, from the highest to the lowest; but must be 
understood chiefly to express, in connexion with the fact 
of liberty, a difference in the capacity or sphere of the 
mind of which it is predicable. The liberty of brutes is 
as perfect in its sphere as that of men or angels. As they 
roam in forests and mountain wildernesses, or swim in 
the depths of the ocean, or fly and gayly sing in the ra- 
diant fields of the summer's sky, they are free ; they rejoice 
in their freedom, and prize it as one of heaven's best gifts. 
But we never think of ascribing to them moral liberty, 



MENTAL HARMONY, ETC. 233 

simply because, so far as we are able to learn, they have 
not a moral nature as man has. The sphere of man's 
liberty is enlarged so as to embrace moral considerations, 
those feelings of approval, disapproval, and moral obli- 
gation which are implied in moral accountability. Ac- 
cordingly, when we speak of man's moral liberty, or of 
man as morally free, we mean merely to express the fact 
that man is a free being, the sphere of whose liberty and 
action is so enlarged as to embrace moral considerations 
or moral principles of action. 



CHAPTER 11. 

MENTAL HARMONY THE BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL 
FREEDOM. 

§ 141. Statement of the inquiry in this chapter. 

What has been said so far, on the general subject of 
Liberty, relates to the abstract idea of liberty, the origin 
and natm-e of that idea, the realization or actual existence 
of liberty in ourselves in distinction from the mere abstract 
notion, and the manner in which we have a knowledge 
of liberty thus existing in ourselves, viz., by Conscious- 
ness. It is a distinct inquiry (and undoubtedly one 
worthy of some attention) what that precise state of 
mind is, in connexion with which liberty exists. In 
other words, what are the precise conditions or prerequi- 
sites of mind essential to mental liberty ? If we are at 
liberty to suppose, as undoubtedly we are, that there are 
or may be certain circumstances or conditions of the 

U2 



234 MENTAL HARMONY THE 

mind which avti inconsistent with its freedom, it seems 
natm-al to follow, that there are other circumstances or 
conditions upon which its freedom, whenever it exists, is 
based, or which are essential to it. What are these pre- 
cise circmnstances ? What is this precise situation of the 
mind ? 

In entering upon this inquiry, we wish to make the re- 
mark, which naturally suggests itself as incidental to the 
main topic, that freedom may exist in various degrees. 
It is well known that there may be various degrees in 
the distinctness of a perception and in the strength of an 
emotion or desire, w^hile the nature of such perception, 
emotion, or desire, remains the same. And, in like manner, 
there may be different degrees of freedom, while the na- 
ture of freedom is the same. The intemperate man, in 
respect to whom we feel at liberty to say that he is par- 
tially enslaved to his cups, is obviously less free than one 
w^hose appetites have never been vitiated. Nevertheless, 
in common parlance, we speak of him without any quali- 
fication as a free man, so long as he is not absolutely 
beyond the possibility of self-recovery. Up to this point 
we consider him both free and accountable. At the same 
time, it is unquestionably true, that he is less free than 
others. 

This is undoubtedly an important view in the philoso- 
phy of the Will. We wish it to be understood, however, 
that, in the remarks on the subject now before us, viz., 
the precise circumstances under which Freedom exists. 
we are speaking of freedom in the highest degree, or the 
perfection of freedom. This will be found the easiest 
and most satisfactory way to obtain precise ideas in rela- 
tion to it. 



BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 235 



§ 142. Occasions mi which liberty exists. 

Returning, therefore, to the main topic of the chapter, 
we proceed to make a remark which has a close connex- 
ion with it. It is this : If men will hut carefully inquire 
and consider, they will not fail to perceive that all things 
ai-e in harmony, or were designed to be so. There is a 
harmony of the various parts of the external world ; there 
is a harmony of the parts of the human body ; there is 
also a harmony of the mind ; by which we mean, there 
is a perfect symmetry and adaptation of the parts of the 
mind, each part being appointed to operate in its appro- 
priate sphere ; and, so far as it fulfils the intentions of 
nature, never infringing upon another part whose sphere 
of operation is different. Now, when each part oper- 
ates in this way ; when there is truly a harmony of move- 
ment, everything being equable, proportionate, and in its 
proper place; when each power performs its functions 
without any unavoidable perplexity existing in itself, or 
any infringement originating from some other source, we 
are then conscious of liberty in the highest sense of the 
term. 

He, who has no knowledge of hberty at such a time, 
never vdll have ; and it is wholly useless to reason with 
such a person on this subject. The consciousness of lib- 
erty, which naturally exists under such circumstances, is 
the only source of our knowledge in relation to it. A 
thousand mere speculations could never furnish the in- 
formation which we have from that source; nor could 
they ever have weight in opposition to the authority of 
that ultimate tribunal. 



236 MENTAL HARMONY THE 



§ 143. Of the circumstances under which this mental 
harmony may he expected to exist. 

But perhaps it may be objected that these views, how- 
ever plausible they may be in theory, are useless and nu- 
gatory in their application, because there is no rule or 
measure upon which the internal harmony depends, and 
to which it may be referred. And certainly there would 
be something in such a suggestion, if it were well found- 
ed. But we think we may venture to say it is not so. It 
must, however, be admitted, if there is harmony in the 
mind, there must be more or less of subordination in the 
parts ; and that, if there is subordination in some parts, 
there must be ascendancy and control somewhere else. 
And this leads to the further remark, that it seems to be 
a proposition, satisfactorily established by writers on men- 
tal philosophy, that Conscience is, in some sense of the 
term, a governing and controlling power of the mind. 
Harmony, as it is capable of existing and is required to 
exist in the human mind, is by the appointment of God ; 
and CONSCIENCE, as the vicegerent of God in the himian 
breast, indicates and rewards the fulfilment of this benev- 
olent purpose. — Conscience, however, is not so much a 
governing power in the executive as in the legislative 
sense of the term ; not so much in the capacity of actually 
carrying into effect, as in the office of guiding, prescri- 
bing, and regulating. In the executive sense of the term, 
the WILL is the presiding and controlling power, while the 
functions of conscience are more of an advisory and con- 
sultative kind. Accordingly, when all the appetites, pro- 
pensities, and passions are kept within their due bounds, 
we are reminded of this desirable state of things, and are 



BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 237 

encouraged to secure its permanency by an internal ap- 
probation ; and, on the other hand, if they exceed those 
limits, we feel an internal reproof and condemnation. So 
that, when we assert the harmony of the mental acts to be 
the true and undoubted occasion on which we are con- 
scious of the existence of mental freedom in the highest 
degree, it is essentially the same as to say, that the occa- 
sion of this consciousness is to be found in a condition of 
the mental acts or operations, conformed to the require- 
ments of conscience. And as conscience is a principle 
instituted by God himself, and is designed to intimate his 
will, we may go further and say, that the occasion on 
which we are conscious of mental freedom in the highest 
degree, is to be found in a condition of the mental acts, 
conformed to the requirements of the Supreme Being. 

It is conscience, (of course we mean an enlightened 
and right, and not a perverted conscience,) which, acting 
in the name of the great Author of the mind, marks out 
their respective boundaries to its various powers and ten- 
dencies ; which says to this appetite and that desire, to 
this propensity and that passion, thus far must thou go 
and no farther; within these limits your operations are 
innocent, beyond them are criminal ; within them there 
is freedom, beyond them there is enthralment. 

§ 144. Opinions of Bishop Butler on conscience. 

In the Volume on the Sensibilities, particularly the por- 
tion on the Moral Sensibilities, we have endeavoured to 
set the topic of the preceding section in a clear light. A 
number of English writers have proposed similar views in 
relation to the comparative subordination and ascendency 
of the different parts of the mind and the authority of the 



238 MENTAL HARMONY THE 

Moral Sense ; particularly Dr. Price and Bishop Butler. 
Li his celebrated sermons on Human Nature, Bishop But- 
ler represents conscience as distinguishing between the 
internal principles of man's heart, as well' as between his 
external actions ; as passing judgment both upon the one 
and the other ; as pronouncing, by its own proper author- 
ity, some things to be, in themselves, right and good, and 
others to be evil and wrong. — Some of his illustrations 
and statements are as follows : " Consider all the several 
parts of a tree, without the natural respects they have to 
each other, and you have not at all the idea of a tree ; 
but add these respects, and this gives you the idea. The 
body may be impaired by sickness ; a tree may decay ; a 
machine be out of order ; and yet the system and consti- 
tution of them not totally dissolved. There is plainly 
somewhat which answers to all this in the moral consti- 
tution of man. Whoever will consider his own nature, 
will see that the several appetites, passions, and particu- 
lar affections have different respects among themselves. 
They are restraints upon, and are in proportion to, each 
other. This proportion is just and perfect, when all those 
under principles are perfectly coincident with conscience, 
so far as their nature permits, and, "in all cases, under its 
absolute and entire direction. The least excess or defect, 
the least alteration of the due proportions among them- 
selves, or of their coincidence with conscience, though 
not proceeding into action, is some degree of disorder in 
the moral constitution."* 

* See Butler's second and third Sermons on Human Nature, and the 
Note. 



BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 239 



§ 145. Objected that perfect harmony of the mind is not 
realized in the present life. 

It may be objected, perhaps, that, in view of what 
has been said, there is no mental freedom at all in the 
present state of existence ; at least, that there is not the 
highest degree or perfection of mental freedom ; since it 
is evident, and is universally admitted, that the harmony 
of the human mind is, in a great degree, destroyed. It 
is maintained by the objector that there is a want of men- 
tal harmony in the most moral man in society, or even 
the man who, together with mere outward morality, is 
the most deeply imbued with the spirit of the Gospel. 
His love to God does not always possess that intensity 
and uniformity which ought to be characteristic of it^ 
his love to his fellow-creatures, although he may be in 
the main anxious for then' good, is subject to variations 
discreditable to the fervour of his benevolence and of- 
fensive to God ; his evil passions are not always suitably 
rebuked and repressed, but sometimes reign for hours, and 
even days and weeks. In a word, his bosom is not the 
placid lake, which the fact of mental harmony would 
seem to imply, but rather the " torn ocean's roar." 

To the general truth of this statement of man's condi- 
tion we are obliged to assent. It is too obvious to admit 
of a denial. And it follows, of course, that the perfection 
of liberty is but too seldom realized in the present life. 
If we wish, therefore, to contemplate liberty in its perfec- 
tion, let us look at God. In that glorious Being all is 
harmony. In him, wisdom, and benevolence, and justice, 
and voluntary power are all blended in due proportions ; 
are all active in their appropriate spheres without any in- 



240 MENTAL HARMONY THE 

terference, forming a constellation and inseparable cluster 
of light, without any shades crossing their path, or am 
darkness at all. And in Him, more than in any othe 
Being, there is perfect liberty. And let us look, moreover 
at angels and seraphims, and all the spotless compania 
and princely hosts that bow in his presence and cast theii 
crowns at his feet, and it is the same. Their souls, al- 
though infinitely removed from Him in point of capacity, 
are yet, in their moral nature and in their more limited 
sphere, the perfect mirror and reflex of His. And with 
them also, in that sphere, whatever it may be, which God 
has been pleased to assign them, there is imdoubtedly 
the brightness and the perfection of liberty. 

§ 146. Perfection of mental harmony and consequent men- 
tal liberty illustrated from the character of the Sa-- 
viour. 

But is there not perfect liberty of the mind on earth ? 
Adam, before he fell, enjoyed this perfection of freedom. 
In the second Adam too, the man Christ Jesus, who was 
tempted in all points as we are, and yet without sin, it ex- 
isted in the highest possible degree. Follow him in the 
vicissitudes of his life ; mark him in the various situations 
of temptation, trial, suffering. See him the son of a car- 
penter, and himself employed in the calling of his fathers ; 
see him at a little later period, with his whip of thongs, 
expelling with righteous indignation the money-changers 
from the Temple ; see him in the synagogue and in the wil- 
derness, in preaching and in prayer, smitten with the mid- 
day sun, and chilled with the drops of the night ; behold 
him with the sorrowful and the rejoicing, at the marriage- 
feast of Cana and at the tomb of Lazarus ; behold him 



BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 241 

mingling with all classes, and anxious for the good of all, 
seeking to benefit alike the high and the low, the priest 
in his robes, and the publican sitting at the receipt of 
customs, the young man of great possessions, as well as 
such as were halt and blind ; behold him praying and 
agonizing in Gethsemane, and agonizing, and supplica- 
ting, and dying on the Cross. It is difficult to conceive 
of any one who was placed in a greater diversity of sit- 
uations, and exposed to a greater mixture and contrariety 
of influences. But in that mind there was entire and per- 
fect harmony. The appetites, the propensities, the affec- 
tions, (for he had them all, and not only that, he was 
tried or tempted in them all,) never violated their due 
boundaries ; but always acted in complete uniformity 
with the law of rectitude implanted in the soul. As 
there was perfect harmony, there was perfect liberty ; and 
as there was liberty, there was peace ; even that peace 
which passetfa understanding. 

As Christ is set before us as an example, that we shoukf 
follow him, we are certainly not to consider it as an im- 
possibility for us to realize in our own souls the same 
completeness of mental harmony and the same perfection 
of inward liberty. It is the duty of all to strive to free 
themselves from the bondage under which they labour, 
and to seciu'e, with the blessing of God, a restoration 
to that state from which they have fallen. And who 
will undertake to say that there may not be a restoration 
to that state of inward harmony, purity, and peace in the 
present life ; if not through the whole course of a life or 
even a year, yet in some favoured moments, when the 
earnest strivings of the creature are blessed by the pres- 
ence and the aids of the Creator ? " Where the Spirit 
of the Lord is, there is liberty ;" not merely liberty in 
X 



242 MENTAL HARMONY THE 

heaven, but liberty on earth ; not merely an exemption 
from ceremonial thraldom, but from the greater load of 
spiritual thraldom ; and we may add, as we are not au- 
thorized to limit the operations of that Spirit of the Lord, 
so we are not authorized or permitted to deny the possi- 
bility, however seldom it may be the case in fact, of the 
completeness or perfection of liberty. If we are not 
wholly lovers of God, it is bec?nse we are still the lovers 
of some iniquity ; and if we are not wholly free, it is 
because we choose not to be so. 

§ 147. Objected that the foregoing views are necessarily ^ 
and in their very terms, inconsistent loith liberty. 

But it may perhaps be objected, that the subordination 
of the various parts of the mind to the authority of con- 
science, which, inasmuch as it constitutes the true har- 
mony of the mind, is the occasion and basis of the actual 
realization of perfect liberty, is, even in its very terms, a 
statement of restraint and enthralment. But can we with 
propriety, when we carefully examine the subject, con- 
cede any weight to such an objection ? Everything which 
exists must have its appropriate nature, and, consequently, 
its prescribed sphere of action. Subordination, if there 
be indeed a Supreme Power to whom everything else is 
amenable, must necessarily be the very condition of ex- 
istence. It is a very erroneous notion, which supposes 
that mental liberty necessarily implies insubordination; 
as much so as to suppose that there can be no civil free- 
dom without popular licentiousness. Without subordina- 
tion, secured by some ascendant and permanent principle, 
each inferior principle and power of human nature would 
leave its appropriate sphere, and commence an invasion 



BASIS OR OCCASION OF MENTAL FREEDOM. 243 

on that of its neighbour. Such a state of things would 
necessarily be an infringement upon, and a destruction of, 
all liberty. 

We hold it to be self-evident, that no being, attribute, 
or faculty can be considered as free in the highest sense 
of that term, whenever there is a violation of the elements 
of its nature ; or, what is the same thing, when there is 
an interruption or hinderance from another source of the 
natural tendencies of those elements. Now the mind, 
though it is one and indivisible in its nature, is exceed- 
ingly multiplied and complex in its modes of operation ; 
in other words, in its various perceptive and sensitive 
powers. And each of these powers, it will be recollect- 
ed, has its definite limits, and its specific and unalienable 
character ; that is to say, a nature of its own. But if it 
be true that they have a nature of their own, it seems to 
follow that Ihey can be free, and free only, at least in the 
highest and most ennobling sense of that term, when they 
are permitted to act in accordance with that natur-e. Now 
as every faculty of the mind exists and operates in con- 
nexion with other faculties, there must be in the mind 
some ascendant and authorized power, which can indicate 
to each its appropriate limits or sphere. And as these 
spheres of action are adapted to each other with perfect 
symmetry, there cannot be a transgression or passing over 
of one sphere, without an invasion of another ; there can- 
not be an excess of liberty in one, without a diminution 
of liberty in another. Hence we see, that, from the na- 
ture of the case, a due subordination in the powers of the 
. mind is not inconsistent with the liberty of each power in 
itself, and is absolutely essential to the liberty of every 
other power. And this view seems to us fully to answer 
the objection above referred to. 



244 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 



CHAPTER m. 

^ FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

§ 148, Remarks on the nature of the freedom of the unll. 

The remarks which have been made in the two prece- 
ding chapters are, to some extent, of a general natm-e, 
being appHcable to the mind as a whole, as well as in 
its parts ; and susceptible of an application not only to 
the human mind, but to all minds. The whole subject 
of the nature of Freedom is one of great importance, and 
it is also one of no inconsiderable difficulty ; and it seem- 
ed, therefore, to require those general illustrations. We 
hope, from what has been said on the nature of freedom 
in general, that it will be easy to understand what is 
meant by the Freedom of the will. We do not suppose 
(and we have already suggested reasons for the remark) 
that the freedom of the will, when contemplated directly 
and in itself, either is, or ever will be, a matter of verbal 
explanation ; no mere form of words can, of itself, fully 
explain wdiat Freedom is, either when predicated of the 
Will, or of any other form or action of the mind. But 
still we trust, that, ^vith the help of the general state- 
ments which have been made, it will be found a matter 
of clear intellectual perception; and that, if it should 
elude and baffle the powers of language to express it, it 
will still be found fully within the comprehension of 
thought. 

It does not follow, because the element of freedom is, 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 245 

in some respects, of too subtile a nature to be imbodied in 
the massive forms of speech, that it is therefore too sub- 
tile and ethereal to be approached and apprehended by 
the mind. There are many things which are known and 
are understood, at least enough so for all practical pur- 
poses, but which cannot be explained by any statements 
in language so as to make them clearer. It may be im- 
possible for me to explain, by a mere form of words, 
what is meant by my existence ; but I fully know, as ev- 
erybody else does in respect to himself, what my exist- 
ence is in experience and in fact. In like manner, it is 
impossible for me to explain what the Freedom of the 
Will is in words, but I know what it is in experience and 
in fact, and have never been destitute of that knowl- 
edge, and it is impossible that I should be destitute of it. 
If the Will were some material object, I could probably 
explain by words what is meant by its freedom ; but as 
it is immaterial and mental, we are obliged to leave it to 
each one's internal examination and consciousness. 

§ 149. Of the relation of the freedom of the loill to the 
fact of its subjectio7i to law. 

But the inquiry may arise in the minds of some. How 
can it be possible that the Will should be free, and, at 
the same time, subject to law 1 No doubt some persons 
fully entertain the idea, that the doctrine of the Will's 
subjection to law, which is clearly susceptible of accumu- 
lated and irresistible proof, necessarily involves that the 
voluntary faculty is destitute of liberty. But, if we rightly 
understand the matter, the fact is entirely the reverse of 
what is here supposed to be the case. The opinion, 
which, for various reasons, we deliberately and fully em- 
X2 



246 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

brace, is, that, without laws of the mind, there is no Hb- 
erty of the mind ; neither hberty in fact, nor even a pos- 
sibihty of it. True hberty does not require that we shoula 
trample on another's rights, but simply that we should 
enjoy our own ; and, in order that our own rights and 
those of others should be enjoyed, it is necessary that both 
should be placed under some regulation. Law and lib- 
erty, therefore, necessarily go together. In the order of 
their existence, law precedes liberty; and it is in that 
order they are most naturally contemplated. Where 
there is perfect liberty, as we have already had occasion 
to notice, there is perfect harmony ; but there cannot be 
perfect harmony, nor harmony in any degree, without 
law. But it is not necessary to dwell here. The Crea- 
tor has wisely and kindly taken this matter into his own 
hands. He has stamped upon the mind in letters of 
light, so that he who runs may read them, that the whole 
economy of the mind is subject to the oversight and reg- 
ulation of permanent principles. And in doing this, he 
has at the same moment, and by one single act, laid the 
broad and deep foundations of control and of subordina- 
tion, of harmony and of freedom. 

But we may go fm-ther than this, and come more close- 
ly to the matter which is directly before us. We may 
safely take the position, that the Will could not enjoy 
freedom, either in a higher or less degree, if it were not 
in itself, and considered separately from all other powers, 
subject to law. If the acts of the Will were guided by 
no principles whatever, if they were beyond the reach of 
all superintendence and regulative control, they would 
necessarily be thrown into the arms of a blind and injflexi- 
ble destiny. 

If it could be shown that the Will is not subject to 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL, 1247 

law, it , would of course follow, that it is the subject of 
mere contingency and accident, which entirely and fully 
comes up to the utmost idea of fatality. And it would 
be found to be a fatalism of the worst kind, an unintel- 
ligent fatalism. — But having proved that the Will, as 
well as the other mental powers, has its laws, we secure 
in that single fact the possibility of liberty, which we 
could not have without it. We are, accordingly, in a 
situation in which the liberty of the Will, that important 
and noble attribute of a morally accountable nature, is 
not necessarily excluded, which would certainly be the 
case if the will were driven about hither and thither, 
without any possible foresight of what is liable to take 
place, and without any regularity of action. 

§ 150. Circumstances or occasions under which freedom 
of the tvill exists. 

Although, in entering into the subject of the freedom 
of the Will in particular, in distinction from the general 
nature of freedom, we do not profess to go into verbal 
explanations and definitions, something may nevertheless 
be said in relation to the occasions or circumstances un- 
der which it exists. — In respect to the occasions on which 
the freedom of the Will exists, but littl-e more remains to 
be done than apply the remarks made on the general sub- 
ject of freedom in the preceding chapter. If there is 
perfect harmony in other parts of the mind, there will be 
perfect freedom in the Will ; if every appetite, and pro- 
pensity, and passion is precisely what it should be, the 
voluntary power cannot possibly experience any pressure 
which will interrupt or diminish that degree of liberty 
T\iiich is essential to, or compatible with its nature. 



248 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

This topic may perhaps be susceptible of illustration 
by a reference to the Supreme Being. If freedom can, 
with propriety and justice, be predicated of any being 
whatever, it is certainly predicable of the Supreme 
Being ; and predicable not only in general terms, hut of 
the Will in particular. We hazard nothing in saying, 
that liberty of the Will is possessed by Him in the high- 
est possible degree. And we cannot conceive how it 
should be otherwise, when we consider that the elements, 
both moral and intellectual, by which it is surrounded, 
are in perfect harmony with each other. — And if we turn 
om' attention to any other high and holy beings, such as 
are nearest in glory to the Supreme Author of all things, 
it is the same. The will of angels and of archangels, 
and of all other orders of holy beings that encircle with 
their songs of praise the Divine Throne, possesses, within 
the highest sphere of its action, the highest degree of 
freedom. All the various elements, which go to consti- 
tute them intelligent and moral beings, are restricted to 
their proper place, and operate in their due proportion. 
Their perceptions, so far as they go, are in perfect ac- 
cordance with the truth of things. Their emotions are 
such as God, who takes supreme delight in perfect recti- 
tude, can entirely approve. Every desire which they ex- 
ercise is in its right place ; their love to God is just such 
as it should be ; their love to other holy beings corre- 
sponds precisely to the nature of the object towards which 
it is directed ; their aversion to sin and sinful beings is 
just such, and fully and entirely such, as is appropriate 
and right; and it is precisely the same in respect to 
eveiy other emotion and desire. And the consequence is, 
there is no disturbing force in the neighbourhood of the 
Will ; there is no possible motive to sway it from the line 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 249 

of perfect rectitude; and hence it is true, that. their Will, 
although it always operates in the direction of the highest 
rectitude and good, is always at liberty > and this liberty 
exists, too, in the highest possible degree. And hence 
we assert, in respect to all minds, whether they are 
higher or lower in the scale of being, that perfect har- 
mony is the appropriate element of perfect freedom ; 
and that every diminution of harmony will be attended 
with a corresponding diminution of liberty. And this is 
as true of the separate parts or powers of the mind as 
of the whole; and is as true of the Will as of any 
other part. 

§ 151. Evidence of the freedom of the -will from con-- 
sciousness. 

Having made the foregoing remarks in explanation 
of the nature of the freedom of the will, and of the oc- 
casions on which it exists, we are now prepared to pro- 
ceed to a consideration of the proofs in support of the 
position that there is such a freedom. And we accord- 
ingly remark, that the doctrine of the freedom of the 
will is sustained, in the first place, by consciousness. — 
When we assert that men have a knowledge of the Free- 
dom of the will by Consciousness, we mean merely to 
declare, that such knowledge is the result of an inward 
conviction, an internal experience. In other words, every 
man knows himself, in the exercise of volition, to be 
free. It is a knowledge which we possess, not by de- 
duction, but by a species of intuitive conviction ; not by 
inference, but by an original perception. 

It may be said, perhaps, that Consciousness has rela- 
tion, properly speaking, to the mental acts alone ; and, 



550 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

therefore, not to Freedom, which is not so much an act 
of the mind, as an incident to or quahfication of an 
act. In answer' to this, it may be said, that Conscious- 
ness takes notice of mental acts in their specific as well 
as their general form ; that is, of their distinctive traits, 
their peculiar aspects, their modifications. And Free- 
dom, considered as a direct subject of consciousness, 
involves, at least, a peculiar aspect or modification of 
the mental act. 

We will only add, that the argument from Conscious- 
ness is as decisive, as it is plain and simple. Some 
writers, indeed, have even been disposed to rely upon 
this argument alone. They consider it (and perhaps 
it may be admitted with entire justice and correctness) 
as conclusive against any considerations which may be 
adduced adverse to it. " Our own free will," says Mr. 
Stewart, " we know by consciousness ; and we can have 
no evidence of any truth so irresistible as this." 

§ 152. Of an objection to the argument from con- 
sciousness. 

It ought to be noticed, however, that from time to 
time, a few individuals have been found who have as- 
serted the opposite, viz., a consciousness of internal com- 
pulsion or slavery. Surprising as such a declaration is, 
we are bound in candour to receive it as truly indicating 
the internal experience of those who make it, although 
it may be in opposition to the testimony of thousands 
and even hundreds of thousands to one. But these ex- 
ceptions do not at all overthrow our argument. If there 
truly be such exceptions, they can undoubtedly be ex- 
plained in entire consistency with the general truth, that 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 251 

the Freedom of the will is ascertained and proved by 
the consciousness of mankind. Is it not true, is it not 
accordant with common experience and with the Scrip- 
tures even, that any man and every man may enslave 
himself? And, when that is the case, what could we 
expect but that consciousness, the true index of what 
takes place within, should bear its testimony to a state 
of thraldom ? If, then, these persons are not conscious 
of Freedom of the will, may we not safely say, it is not 
the work of their Creator, but their own ? 

Certain it is, if we permit any one of the appetites, pro- 
pensities, or passions continually to extend and strength- 
en itself by being continually repeated, it will eventually 
gain the ascendency over and subdue all the rest of the 
mind. If, for instance, a man indulges, year after year, 
the consuming propensity of ambition, it ultimately so dis- 
orders the proper action of the mental powers, and ac- 
quires such immense strength, that he feels himself driven 
by a sort of compulsion ; he undoubtedly recognises in 
himself, as he asserts to be the case, the impulse of a spe- 
cies of destiny, which, however, is of his own creation. 
By his own criminal improvidence, and not by any in- 
ward and irresistible fatality, he has lost control of the 
helm, and is driven forward amid billows and tempests 
to his destruction. 

Such cases undoubtedly exist, but they cannot with pro- 
priety be regarded in any other light than that of excep- 
tions to the general rule, and which are susceptible of an 
explanation in consistency with the general experience 
of mankind. That experience (the inward testimony or 
consciousness which the great mass of mankind has) 
most decidedly testifies to the liberty of the will. 



252 FREEDOM OF THE WILL, 



§ 153. Illustration of the vnWs freedom, drawn frcrni the 
nature of motives. 

In order to meet the doubts and perplexities which 
may arise from time to time in the reader's mind in rela- 
tion to these difficult and interesting subjects, we wish to 
recur a moment to some of the laws of the Will which 
have been enumerated. 

First. One of these laws is, that the Will never puts 
forth a volition, except in reference to an object ; which 
object is sometimes called the Objective or outward mo- 
tive, but more properly the object merely ; that is to say, 
the object of volition. We remark here, that no one 
will suppose that this condition or law of the Will's ac- 
tion perplexes, in the least, the doctrine of its freedom. 

Second. Another condition or law of the Will's ac- 
tion is, that volition cannot exist where there is no belief 
in the practicability or attainableness of the object, and 
that, other things being equal, the strength of the volition 
will be in proportion to the degree of belief We do 
not suppose that the admission of this view will be con- 
sidered as in any degree at variance with the doctrine 
of the Will's freedom. — And the remark will apply equal- 
ly well to the additional fact, that the action of the Will 
does, by its very constitution, always have a prospective 
tendency. 

Third. The laws of Causality and Uniformity may be 
resolved into that of motives. That is to say, if all 
the Will's acts, in times past, have been regulated by 
the law of Motives, they have, of course, been conform- 
ed to the law of Causality. And if they shall be regula- 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL* 253 

ted in all time to come in the same way, they will, of 
course, be conformed to the law of Uniformity. 

In connexion with what has now been said, we proceed 
fmther to remark, if there is any difficulty in the mind 
of any one, we suppose it must be in connexion with the 
law of Motives. The law of Motives is this. The Will 
acts in view of motives, and never acts independently of 
them. In other words, although its acts are truly its own, 
and are to be regarded and spoken of as its own, yet Mo- 
tives fm-nishthe condition or occasion (and, we may add, 
the indispensable occasion) on which the ability to put 
forth those acts is exerted. 

The question, then, arises here. Does the law of Mo- 
tives necessarily perplex the doctrine of the Will's free- 
dom 1 We think not. It is particularly worthy of notice 
in respect to this Law, that we are obliged to rest satis- 
fied with it, as it comes to us in its general form, and as 
it is stated in general terms, without the ability of going 
within the circle it draws around the Will and seeing it 
carried into effect in particulars, in such a way as to ren- 
der the action of the Will a fixed and necessary one in 
any particular direction. 

§ 154. Remarks in continuation of this subject. 

The closing remark of the last section will be better im- 
derstood by briefly recurring to some views which have 
already been taken. We refer to the important fact, that 
Motives, although they are the necessary conditions and 
preparatives of the Will's action, are oftentimes essential- 
ly different from each other, being various in kind as well as 
degree, so much so as not to admit of a direct comparison. 

It is in connexion with this important view that we are able 
Y 



254 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

distinctly to conceive how the Will may act in connexion 
with motives, and yet have a true and substantive power 
in itself; how it may be subject to law, and yet be free. 
In other words, although motives are placed round about 
it, and enclose it on every side, still, as they differ from 
each other in kind as well as degree, there is evidently 
an opportunity for the Will, in the exercise of that pow- 
er which it has in its own nature, of choosing, (or, if other 
expressions be preferable,) of deciding, determining, or 
arbitrating among them. Although, repeating the idea 
in another form of expression, its operations are confined 
within a sphere of action which is clearly and permanent- 
ly marked out by its Maker, yet, within that sphere, (the 
general proposition of the Will's subjection to law still 
holding good even there,) its acts may be regarded as 
emanating in itself, and as possessing the attribute of free- 
dom. Although, in some important sense, the Will is the 
creature of God, and is dependent upon God, and all its 
acts may perhaps be regarded as God's acts, yet, at the 
same time, taking the facts just as they are presented and 
stand in the light of any mere human analysis, it has also 
a vitality of its owm, a theatre of movement appropriate 
to itself, and all its acts are its own acts. This is the po- 
sition, undoubtedly, in which God has seen fit to place 
the subject before the human mind, as if He would in- 
struct us at the same moment, both in our weakness and 
strength, our power and dependence. 

But when we have stated this, we have stated all ; 
we have arrived at an unfathomable mystery ; one which 
the limited mind of man will probably never penetrate. 
How law and freedom can exist together within that 
sphere, into which hmnan vision cannot penetrate, as we 
have neither the disposition nor the ability to travel be- 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 255 

yond the record of the knowable, we are unable to say. 
We speak now in reference to our knowledge, and not in 
reference to the possibility of the fact. Human philoso- 
phy, which sometimes is never more philosophical than 
when it confesses its ignorance, stands rebuked and hum- 
bled here. We see the evidences of Law, and we know, 
beyond all doubt and question, that laws of the Will, 
particularly the law of Motives, exist ; but, at the same 
time, if the distinction of motives into natural and 
MORAL, or, more specifically, into desirive and obligative, 
be correct, we are not able to bind the ligatures of law 
so closely around the domains of the will, as to shut out' 
the possibility either of its power or its freedom. That 
is to say, while the human mind can establish and prove 
to demonstration the proposition that the will is subject 
to law in every mode of its action, it is unable, by any ex- 
ercise of fair reasoning, so to apply the principle of law 
to the Will, either in its general or more specific forms, 
£is not to leave an ample sphere both for its liberty and 
its power. How God operates within that sphere, and 
how the hmnan Mdll operates, or how they operate togeth- 
er, we repeat that we know not. But, so far as we are 
permitted to know, we perceive that everything is char- 
acterized by great wisdom and goodness ; and that there 
is no opportunity for reasonable doubt or cavilling. We 
are permitted, for wise purposes, to see that God is our 
sovereign and our master ; to see that not only the hairs 
of our head are numbered, but that even our inmost pur- 
poses are under his control ; and to see it clearly, distinct- 
ly, and undeniably ; but in such a way as to leave it both 
possible and demonstrable, as the subject is presented in 
the light of human reason, that we possess in ourselves 
the elements (and to an extent involving the most sol- 



256 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

emn responsibility) of power, of freedom, and of moral 
accountableness. 



§ 155. Objected thai the mil is necessarily governed by 
the strongest motive. 

But it will perhaps be said by way of objection, that 
the Will is necessarily governed by the strongest motive, 
or at least, that it necessarily acts in view of the strong- 
est motive, of whatever kind it may be. In this way, it 
is supposed, we can penetrate within the sphere or circle 
of liberty, and distinctly see how law will degenerate 
into slavery. We are aware that this has often been 
alleged, and not unfrequently by men whose suggestions 
are entitled to the most respectful consideration. But the 
proposition, in order to have any weight as an argument, 
must be shown to be of universal application. If there 
were only one kind or class of motives, there would un- 
doubtedly be some plausibility in the view proposed. 
Perhaps it would be a conclusive one. 

Motives of the same kind can be directly compared 
together ; and as our consciousness assures us of a dif- 
ference in the strength of such motives, even in them- 
selves considered, there is a propriety in speaking of 
them as more or less strong. But, as we have already 
had occasion to remark in speaking on this very subject, 
motives, which differ in kind, can be compared not in 
themselves, but only in their effects. In respect to all 
such, therefore, the proposition that the Will is governed 
by the strongest motive is an identical one. That is to 
say, the proposition can mean nothing more than simply, 
that the Will is governed by the motive by which it 
is governed. If we were to admit this, we should admit 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL, ETC. 257 

only an obvious truism, which could have no weight, 
either one way or the other, in resolving the matter un- 
der consideration. — (See the remarks on this subject in 
chapter viii., part ii.) 



CHAPTER IV. 

FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED IN MAN's MORAL NATURE. 

§ 156. Remarks on the nature or mode of the argument. 

There are various other considerations connected with 
the general subject of the Freedom of the Will, all of 
which have weight, although they may not be closely 
connected with each other. Hence the argument on the 
subject of the freedom of the will, as well as on that of 
its subjection to laws, has a sort of miscellaneous appear- 
ance, which may be less pleasing than it would otherwise 
be to those who have been accustomed to the invariable 
consecution of parts and the strictness of mathematical 
demonstration. But it will be perceived, that the nature 
of the subject renders this in some degree unavoidable ; 
and it is to be hoped, that suitable allowance will be 
made for it. If the question before us w^ere, whether the 
Romans occupied the island of Great Britain at some pe- 
riod previous to the Saxon conquest, we probably should 
not rest the conclusion on one circumstance or fact alone ; 
but employ all which might have a bearing on the inqui- 
ry, however diverse they might be from each other in 
themselves. We should refer to the testimony of the 
Y2 



258 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED 

Roman historians, to the remains of encampments and 
roads indicating a Roman origin, to the coins and urns 
which have been discovered ; and although each of these 
circumstances would be different from and independent 
of the others, they would all obviously bear upon the 
same conclusion ; and even if they were separately weak 
and somewhat unsatisfactory, might yet, in their combina- 
tion, furnish an argument of irresistible strength. It is so 
with the subject now before us, as also and particularly 
so with that vfhich occupied our attention in the Second 
Part of this work. — We shall, therefore, go on to men- 
tion one view of the subject after another, in the expec- 
tation that each distinct part of the argument will be 
kept in mind ; and that the influence of each will be so 
united with that of others as to render the conclusion 
not only satisfactory, but unanswerable. 

§ 157. Of the elements of man's moral nature. 

Although the argument, taken as a whole, is emphati- 
cally a miscellaneous one, yet the remarks of this chapter 
will be found to be connected together, in this respect at 
least, that they all have a relation to one topic, viz., man's 
moral nature. That man has a moral nature we cannot, 
for a moment, suppose to be a matter of doubt. Without 
such a natm^e he could not be the subject of a moral gov- 
ernment ; and although he might possess all knowledge, 
he would necessarily be without virtue and vice; and 
neither praise nor blame, neither rewards nor punishment, 
could ever attach to his conduct. 

There is nothing inconceivable or inconsistent in the 
supposition of a being so constituted as to be possessed 
of intellect, propensities, passions, and will, and yet to be 



IN man's moral nature. 259 

incapable, by his very constitution, of framing those no- 
tions and of exercising those feehngs which are impHed 
in a moral nature. But such is not the constitution of 
man. While he is endowed with intellect, and appetites, 
and propensities, and passions, and will, God has seen 
fit to elevate and ennoble him, by constituting him a 
moral and religious being. The elements of his moral 
nature (in accordance with that striking wisdom ever 
manifested in God's works, which accomplishes great re- 
sults by simple means) are few in number, and are to be 
found chiefly in his ability to frame the abstract notions 
of right and wrong, in the feelings of moral approval and 
disapproval, in those states of the mind which are known 
as feelings of remorse, and in feelings of moral obliga- 
tion. — All these states of mind, which, taken together, 
constitute man a moral being, and without which he 
could not sustain or possess that character, are based 
upon and imply the fact, as will more fully appear in the 
separate examination of them, of the freedom of the will. 

§ 158. Evidence of freedom of the will from feelings of 
approval and disapproval. 

In stating the argument which may be deduced on this 
subject from our moral nature, we proceed to remark, in 
the first place, that the freedom of the will is implied in, 
and is shown by, the moral feelings of approval and dis- 
approval. We are so constituted, that, whenever we 
behold a person performing a virtuous action, demeaning 
himself with entire kindness, good faith, and justice, we 
at once feel a sentiment of approval. On the other hand, 
if we see a person pursuing a different course, one which 
is obviously characterized by falsehood, ingratitude, and 



260 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED 

injustice, we at once feel an emotion of disapproval. But 
if it should be suddenly disclosed to us that the agent, 
whom we thus, according to the circiunstances of the 
case, either approve or condemn, was not in the posses- 
sion of freedom of will, it is undeniable, that all such ap- 
proval or disapproval would at once cease. We should 
no more think of approving an action, however beneficial 
it might be, which was known to be performed without 
freedom of will, than of pronouncing a man worthy of 
moral approbation for a purely natural gift, such as sym- 
metry of form, a musical voice, or striking outlines of the 
countenance. More properly, we should think nothing 
about it. To approve under such circumstances would, 
by the very constitution of our nature, be an impossibility. 
The existence of liberty, therefore, is, in this respect, and 
so far as these feelings are concerned, fimdamental to our 
moral nature. 

§ 159. Proof of freedom from feelings of remorse. 

There is another class of mental states, constituting a 
part of man's moral nature, to which similar remarks vsdll 
apply ; we refer to feelings of remorse. These feelings 
are entirely distinct from those of approval and disappro- 
val. We are capable of approving or disapproving when 
our attention is directed solely to the conduct of others ; 
but we never feel remorse for what others do, and it is 
impossible that we should. Feelings of remorse have re- 
lation to ourselves alone. We experience them when our 
own conduct, and not that of others, is the subject of 
moral disapproval. They are painful feelings, but the 
suffering is of a peculiar kind, altogether diflf'erent from 
mere sadness or grief; and hence they may be regarded 



IN man's mokal nature. 261 

as having a character of their own, and as separate in 
their nature from all other states of the mind. The ex- 
istence of these states of mind implies, on the part of the 
person who is the subject of them, a conviction of the 
freedom of the will. 

It can hardly be thought necessary to adduce facts and 
argmnents in support of what has been said. If a person 
feels an internal condemnation or remorse for what he 
has done, it certainly must be on the ground that he was 
at liberty to will and to do otherwise. It cannot be 
doubted that this position is fully and universally admit- 
ted. — There may be fears and sorrows, undoubtedly ; 
there may be regrets and sufferings, in cases which are 
not dependent on any determinations of our own ; but 
there cannot possibly be remorse, which implies a sense 
of guilt as well as the experience of sorrow, without a 
conviction, deep as the basis of the mind itself, that, in 
doing the criminal action, we willed and acted freely, 
and not by compulsion. If, therefore, feelings of remorse 
exist, as they not unfrequently do, they furnish a strong 
proof in support of the libert}" of the will. 

§ 160. Without the possession of liherty of icill man could 
never have framed the abstract notions of right and 
wrong. 

Among other things having a relation to man's situa- 
tion and character as a moral being, it is to be noticed 
that he is so constituted as to be able to form the abstract 
notions of right and wrong, or of virtue and vice, which 
are only other and synonymous expressions for right and 
wrong. These conceptions (which are thoughts, and not 
emotions ; the creations of the Intellect, and not the exer- 



262 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED 

cises of the Sensibilities or heart) are truly great and en- 
nobling ; and it may perhaps be said of them, more than 
of any other part of our moral nature, that they are the 
basis of moral reasoning, and the foundation of moral 
anticipation and hope. They disclose to the mind, like 
light coming from heaven and shining vividly into its 
depths, the great fact that there is a real, permanent, and 
immutable distinction between good and evil. Strike out 
and annihilate these primary conceptions, and you at the 
same moment obscure and destroy the glory of man's 
mental nature, and blot out, at least as far as all human 
perception is concerned, the brightest feature in the char- 
acter of all other mental existences. 

But these leading ideas, so fundamental to everything 
of a moral and religious nature, could never have been 
formed without a conviction of the liberty of the will. 
The occasions undoubtedly, on which they are suggested 
and exist in the mind, are instances of voluntary conduct, 
either our own or that of others, where we either approve 
or disapprove. Without such occasions offered to our 
notice, and without such attendant emotions of moral ap- 
proval or disapproval, it may be asserted "without any hes- 
itation, that men w^ould never have formed Einy concep- 
tions in the abstract of right and wrong, of rectitude and 
the opposite ; and, consequently, could never have beheld, 
as they now clearly do, as if inscribed by the radiant fin- 
ger of God, a great line of demarcation, remaining al- 
ways and immutably the same, between good and evil, be- 
tween holiness and sin. But, as has already been stated, 
it is always implied in the feelings of approval and disap- 
proval, that the person, whose conduct is either approved 
or disapproved, possessed liberty of the will. Without a 
firm conviction that such was the case, the emotions could 



IN man's moral nature. 263 

never have existed ; and, consequently, there could never 
have occurred, in the history of the human mind, that state 
of things which is the basis of the origin of the abstract 
ngtions of right and wrong, of rectitude and want of rec- 
titude, of virtue and vice, which are only different expres- 
sions for the same thing. We have, therefore, in this 
view of the subject, a new proof that the liberty of the 
will is positively and necessarily involved in the fact of 
our possessing a moral nature. 

§ 161. Proof from feelings of moral obligation: 

There is a distinct class of mental states, entitled, in 
every point of view, to an important place in man's mor- 
al constitution, which may be termed Obligatory feelings, 
or feelings of moral obligation. Of these states of mind 
we do not profess to give a definition. As they are ele- 
mentary and simple, they are necessarily undefinable. 
But we cannot doubt that every one must have more or 
less frequently experienced them, and that every one 
knows what their nature is. And this class of feelings 
also furnishes an argument on the subject before us. — 
We deem the assertion within the bounds of truth and of 
the common opinion of mankind, when we say that no 
man ever does or ever can experience in himself the 
feeling of moral obligation to do a thing, so long as he 
feels himself to be actually destitute of liberty to do it. 
And this is equally true, whether the destitution of liber- 
ty relates to the outward and bodily action or to the ac- 
tion of the will. Does a man feel himself morally ac- 
countable for the performance of an action to which he 
is driven by some bodily compulsion 1 Or does he feel 
himself accountable for a failure to perform an action, 



264 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED 

from the performance of which he is kept by actual bod- 
ily restraint 1 And if the mind is constrained and driv- 
en by a compression and violence, corresponding, as far 
as the different natm-e of the two things will permit, to 
such compulsion of the body, can there be any more con- 
viction of accountability, or of any form of moral obliga- 
tion in the one case than in the other 1 But if the ex- 
istence of feelings of obligation be undeniable, and if the 
existence of such feelings be incompatible with the ab- 
sence of freedom, and if both these truths are based on 
the consciousness and confirmed by the universal ac- 
knowledgments of mankind, then it follows, of course, 
that men do in fact feel and recognise, and that they ful- 
ly and assuredly know their freedom. 

§ 162. Evidence from men's views of crimes and 'punish- 
ments. 

Again, the freedom of the wdll is clearly implied in the 
views which we find to be generally adopted by men in 
respect to crimes and punishments. This view of our 
subject is closely connected with that which has just been 
given ; and essentially the same illustrations as were in- 
troduced in the last section will apply here. 

If a man is laid under bodily constraint, and, in that 
situation, is the agent or rather instrument in the perform- 
ance of an action involving great loss and suffering to 
others, such action is never considered a crime and de- 
serving of punishment, in whatever light it might be re- 
garded under other circumstances. This is undeniable. 
And we always take the same view when the mind is 
actually laid under constraint as when the body is ; v\dth 
this difference merely, that constraint of the body is a 



IN man's moral nature. 265 

matter easily ascertainable, while that of the mind can 
be learned only with a greater or less degree of probabil- 
ity. The power of the will is a gift or ti'ust, as much so 
as the power of perception, and is a definite thing ; in 
some persons it is greater, in others less ; but in all cases 
it has its limits. Whenever, therefore, there is an utter 
disproportion between the strength of the motive and the 
power of the will, (so much so, perhaps, as to render it es- 
sentially the same as if the will were wholly destitute of 
power,) the will is universally understood to be, at such 
times, under a greater or less degree of constraint. And 
if, under such circumstances, a crime be charged upon a 
person, we graduate the degree of it, (looking upon it as 
higher in some cases and lower in others,) in precise con- 
formity with the degree of constraint, so far as we can 
judge what it is. 

" There are cases," says Dr. Reid, " in which a man's 
voluntary actions are thought to be very little, if at all, in 
his power, on account of the violence of the motive that 
impels him. The magnanimity of a hero or a martyr is 
not expected in every man and on all occasions. — If a 
man, trusted by the government with a secret which it is 
high treason to disclose, be prevailed upon by a bribe, we 
have no mercy for him, and hardly allow the greatest 
bribe to be any alleviation of his crime. But, on the 
other hand, if the secret be extorted by the rack or the 
dread of present death, we pity him more than we blame 
him, and would think it severe and unequitable to con- 
demn him as a traitor." — And he afterward gives the 
reason of these different judgments, viz., that while the 
mere love of money leaves to a man the entire power 
over himself, the torment of the rack or the dread of 
present death are so violent motives, that men who have 

Z 



266 FREEDOM OF THE WILL IMPLIED 

not uncommon strength of mind are not masters of them- 
selves in such a situation, and, therefore, what they do is 
not imputed to them as a crime at all, or is thought less 
criminal than it would othermse be. 



§ 163. Prevalent opinions oj" mankind on this subject. 

The argument under this general head, so far as it has 
now been gone into, has been stated in particulars ; and 
it is probably more satisfactory, when stated in this way, 
than in any other. But something may be said on the 
subject of the freedom of the will, as connected ^\T.th our 
moral nature, when it is considered, as it were, in the 
mass. The body of mankind undoubtedly look upon this 
subject, in its great outlines and as a whole, without at- 
tempting to penetrate and seize its elements. And, with- 
out unduly yielding to popular prejudices or abating from 
the dignity of philosophy, we may safely assert, that this 
is an inquiry on which an appeal may with propriety be 
made to the common experience, and the common convic- 
tions and expressions of the great body of men. And 
we no sooner make the appeal than we find that the tes- 
timony from that source is unanimous and unequivocal. 

There are some truths which are so deeply based in 
the human constitution, that all men of all classes receive 
them and act upon them. They are planted deeply and 
immutably in the soul, and no reasoning, however plausi- 
ble, can shake them. And, if we are not mistaken, the 
doctrine of the freedom of the will, as a condition of even 
the possibility of a moral nature, is one of these first 
truths. It seems to be regarded by all persons, v^athout 
any exception, as a dictate of common sense and as a first 
principle of our nature, that men are morally accountable, 



IN man's moral nature. 267 

and are the subjects of a moral responsibility in any re- 
spect whatever, only so far as they possess freedom, both 
of the outward action and of the will. They hold to 
this position as an elementary truth, and would no sooner 
think of letting it go, than of abandoning the conviction 
of their personal existence and identity. They do not 
profess to go into pai'ticulars, but they assert it in the 
mass, that man is a moral being only so far as he is free. 
And such a unanimous and decided testimony, bearing, as ' 
it obviously does, the seal and superscription of nature 
herself, is entitled to serious consideration. 

In view of the various suggestions of this chapter, 
(and further illustrations to the same effect might be 
given if time would allow,) we are abundantly author- 
ized in the assertion, that the liberty of the wall is implied, 
and fully and clearly implied, in the fact of man's possess- 
ing a moral nature ; and that, if he possesses such a na- 
ture, he possesses freedom. 



CHAPTER V. 

OTHER PROOFS OF FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

§ 164. Evidence of the freedom of the imllfrom languages: 

In bringing forward the various considerations which, 
however disconnected wdth each other in themselves, 
have yet a bearing on the subject before us, we proceed 
to remark further, that the existence of the freedom of 
the will may be argued with some degree of force from 
the structure of all languages. — We have already had 



268 OTHER PROOFS OF 

occasion to make the remark, that every language is, in 
some important sense of the terms, a mirror of the mind ; 
and that something may be learned of the tendencies of 
the mind, not only from the form or structure of langua- 
ges in general, but even from the import of particular 
terms. — ^Now it is undeniable, that the terms liberty and 
FREEDOM, and other terms of equivalent import, are found 
in all languages ; and that they are not only found in ap- 
plication to nations, but to individuals ; and not only in 
application to outward actions, but to the acts of the Will. 
But if men are in fact and by their very constitution des- 
titute of liberty of the will, it seems impossible to give 
any explanation of this state of things. So that it is a 
natural and irresistible inference, if we can infer the con- 
victions and belief of men at all from the forms of speech, 
that they universally have a conviction and belief of 
their liberty in that respect. And we can give no expla- 
nation of the existence of such conviction or belief, ex- 
cept on the ground of the actual existence of that free- 
dom to which the belief relates. 

§ 165. Evidence from the occasional suspension of the 
will's acts. 

Another circumstance which may be adduced as an 
indication and evidence of the freedom of the Will, is 
the fact of the occasional suspension or delay of its opera- 
tions, when its action is solicited by the pressure of mo- 
tives which happen to be various and conflicting in their 
kind, though all of them are alike powerful and urgent. 
Without attem.pting to explain how this suspension takes 
place, it is enough for our present purpose simply to state 
the fact, as it constantly presents itself to observation and 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 269 

notice, viz., that at times, when motives are thronging 
around the will in various directions, and are each and 
all of them clamorous for an action of the will favoura- 
ble to themselves, the will nevertheless does not act. It 
is true, some persons will say, and probably with correct- 
ness, that this negation or suspension of action is itself 
to be regarded as a species of resolve or voluntary deter- 
mination ; that while the will reserves itself, so to speak, 
for a movement based upon more mature inquiry, this 
very reservation of its action is itself an action. With- 
out stopping to comment on this suggestion, it will be 
perceived, that the essential idea still holds good and in- 
disputable, viz., that the will not unfrequently, for some 
reason or other, whatever it may be, withholds its decis- 
ion in respect to claims that are urged by motives of no 
small ■ efficacy. And tliis suspension of the will's action 
in respect to such claims, on whatever groimds it may 
happen, and whatever other course may be taken by the 
will, is undoubtedly to be regarded, in a candid view 
of the subject, as a characteristic and a proof of its free- 
dom. 

§ 166. Evidence of the Jreedom of the will from the 
control which every man has over his ovm motives of 
action. 

There are various other considerations, which are en- 
titled to more or less weight. — We have already seen, in 
the Second Part of this Work, that the will is subject to 
laws ; and have further seen that it never acts, and is 
not capable of acting, except in connexion with antece- 
dent motives. But it is a striking fact, and one worthy 
of special notice in connexion with the will's freedom, 
Z2 



270 OTHER PROOFS OF 

that we ourselves have no inconsiderable degree of con- 
trol over these motives. If the reader has in memory the 
remarks made in the First Part of this Work on the con- 
nexion among all the great departments of the mind, 
particularly on the relation of the Intellect to the will 
and of the Sensibilities to the will, he will be prepared 
to understand and receive the truth of this remark. 
Those motives which come in immediate contact with 
the will, and are most closely connected with its action, 
are deposited, not in the Understanding, but in the Sen- 
sibilities j are not mere perceptions of the intellect, but 
are impregnated with an infusion of desire and sentiment. 
Still they undoubtedly have a close connexion with the 
antecedent acts of the intellect. There must be some- 
thing previously perceived before there can be either de- 
sire or emotion. It is impossible, in the nature of things, 
that we should have the feehns; of desire or the feehno- 
of obligation, without an antecedent act of the intellect 
or understanding making known and identifying to us 
the particular object of desire, and the particular object 
to which the feeling of moral obligation relates. Hence, 
as the sensibilities act upon the will, and the understand- 
ing acts upon the sensibilities, we may in some degree 
control the will by enlightening the understanding. But 
it is the will which, more than anything else, is the 
counterpart, or the synonym perhaps, of the personal pro- 
noun, of the I and We, which are so conspicuously intro- 
duced as agents ; and it is the will, therefore, which, by 
adopting this process, controls itself. The voluntary pow- 
er, operating through the intellect, may contract or ex- 
pand the horizon of motives by which it is surrounded, 
and in this way regulate by anticipation the possibilities 
and probabilities, if not the absolute certainty of its own 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 271 

ulterior action. We are presented, therefore, in this view 
of the subject, with an instance of self-regulation, obvi- 
ously carried on under the control and within the limits 
of law, which is not only liberty in essence, but hberty 
in its most interesting and perfect form. 

§ 167. The freedom of the loill further shown from the. 
attempts of men to influence the conduct of their fel- 
low-men. 

The freedom of the will seems to be evinced and pro- 
ved, furthermore, from the manner in which we address 
our fellow-men when we wish them to pursue a certain 
course of conduct When we request or require them to 
do a certain thing, we certainly act on the supposition 
that they have both the power and the liberty to do it. 
It would evidently be a very fruitless thing to attempt, 
by means of persuasion and argument, to move them in 
a certain direction, if they were the subjects of an inflex- 
ible destiny, and destitute of the power and liberty of 
acting in accordance with what is proposed. The view 
which men obviously take of their fellow-men is, that 
they are rational beings ; that the considerations address- 
ed to them will have their due weight ; and that their 
acting or not acting in conformity with those considera- 
tions is a matter wholly within their own power, and in 
respect to which they are entirely and completely free. 

§ 168. Further evidence from the observation of men's 
conduct. 

Among other sources of evidence in support of the 
proposition of the Will's freedom, we may confidently 



272 OTHER PROOFS OF 

appeal to the observation of what is constantly taking 
place among men, as we behold them engaged in the 
pm-suits and duties of life. Even a slight notice of their 
conduct fully justifies the assertion, that men act univer- 
sally as if they felt and knew themselves to be free. In 
making this statement, however, we may properly claim 
to be imderstood in the natural import of the terms. We 
speak of men in general, as we see them in the discharge 
of the common duties of life and under the influence of 
ordinary motives ; and not of those whose liberty of out- 
ward action is restrained by chains and dungeons ; nor 
of those whose inward liberty has been perplexed and 
compromised by inordinate indulgences, which inevitably 
tend to bring the mind more or less within the verge of 
insanity. Within the limitation implied in this remark, 
a very slight observation discovers to us that men are 
constantly in action ; that the causes of action exist in 
themselves ; and that, in all the numberless varieties of 
their conduct, they act freely. One is in pursuit of hon- 
om", another of pleasure, another of wealth; one acts 
from motives of interest, and another from sentiments of 
duty ; one has solely in view the promotion of his ow^n 
personal welfare, another that of mankind ; but in each 
and all of these cases, and in all others, there is no dec- 
laration and no evidence of compulsion. And we feel 
the force of this statement the more, when we farther no- 
tice, that men are frequently changing those pursuits to 
which their attention was directed in the first instance ; 
transferring themselves from one neighbourhood to an- 
other, from one sphere of life to another, and from one 
climate to another ; and adapting their feelings and con- 
duct to situations never before experienced. Everywhere 
there is life, activity, movement, energy ; plans never be- 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 273 

fore started ; new methods of executing them ; the mo- 
tives and conduct of one individual conflicting mth those 
of another, and varying constantly to meet conflicting ex- 
igences. And does all this bear the impress of fatality ? 
Are we not to receive these facts as decisive indications 
of liberty, even if it be true that we are unable to define 
what liberty is ? Can we even conceive of a freedom 
which shall result in opening a wider sphere, or in secu- 
ring a greater variety of action 7 

§ 169. Ai'gued further from the view taken in the 
Scriptures. 

We conclude this enumeration of circumstances, which 
tend to illustrate and prove the existence of liberty of the 
will, with the single fact further, which no one can re- 
gard otherwise than as entitled to our serious considera- 
tion, that the Scriptures clearly recognise man as possess- 
ing such liberty. If the Scriptures everywhere assert the 
omniscience and superintendence of God, and announce 
his superintendence as extending to the minutest things 
and events, both material and immaterial, as seems to be 
abundantly evident and to be universally admitted ; still 
it must be confessed, at the same time, that they are no 
less explicit in the announcement, both expressly and by 
implication, that man has power, freedom, and accounta- 
bility. All those passages which call upon men to con- 
sider of their ways, obviously imply that there is no ob- 
struction in the way of their considering ; and that they 
are free either to do or not to do it. All those passages 
which exhort and require men to repent of their deeds, 
obviously imply that they are in the possession of liberty, 
and that there is no obstacle in the way of their repent- 



S74 OTHER PROOFS OF 

ance which is inconsistent with hberty. All those passa- 
ges which enjoin upon men the performance of moral 
and religious duties, go upon the supposition that obe- 
dience and disobedience are alike within the sphere of 
their choice. " Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways ; 
for why will ye die, oh house of Israel," is the beautiful 
and affecting language which God utters to his ancient 
covenant people and to all his impenitent children of all 
nations. 

Theologians, perhaps, referring to the disastrous effects 
resulting from the fall of our first parents, will assure us 
that the freedom which men have in the discharge of the 
higher and more essential duties of the religious life, is 
the especial gift of the great Being who requires the per- 
formance of such duties. But, in connexion with the 
theological view, it will be remembered that the question 
here is, not whence men derive their freedom, but whether 
they have it. 

§ 170. Practical importance of the doctrine of liberty. 

If we have not stated the argument on the side of free- 
dom so clearly and forcibly, and so much at length, as 
might have been done, the deficiency occasions the less 
solicitude, when we consider that, in all ages of the 
world, the doctrine in question, with few exceptions, has 
been fally and universally admitted. Still there have 
been found some persons, from time to time, who have 
maintained and have believed the opposite, and have 
strenuously endeavoured to give a currency to their opin- 
ions. And hence, in closing these remarks on the subject 
of the freedom of the will, it seems a suitable opportunity 
to say something on its practical importance. If we are 



FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 275 

destitute of freedom, we certainly cannot feel moral ac- 
countability ; and whatever course we may take in life, 
even if it be entirely injurious and sinful, we shall yet 
-feel that we are not properly the subjects of blame. Be- 
fore, therefore, we adopt the notion of man's destitution 
of liberty, (if, indeed, it be possible, after a due consider- 
ation of what has been said on the subject,) we should 
carefully and seriously consider the consequences. 

For the purpose of showing that these intimations are 
not based upon unfounded or exaggerated fears, and in 
order more clearly to illustrate the pernicious consequen- 
ces to which erroneous notions on this subject are apt to 
lead, we take the liberty to introduce here an extract 
from the writings of the celebrated M. Diderot. — " Ex- 
amine it narrowly," says M, Diderot, " and you will see 
that the word liberty is a word devoid of meaning ; that 
there are not, and that there cannot be, free beings ; that 
we are only what accords with the general order, with 
our organization, our education, and the chain of events. 
Thes^e dispose of us invincibly. We can no more con- 
ceive of a being acting vvithout a motive, than we can of 
one of the arms of a balance acting without a weight. 
The motive is always exterior and foreign, fastened upon 
us by some cause distinct from ourselves. What deceives 
us is the prodigious variety of our actions, joined to the 
habit, which we catch at our birth, of confounding the 
volimtary and the free. We have been so often praised 
and blamed, and have so often praised and blamed oth- 
ers, that we contract an inveterate prejudice of believing 
that we and they will and act freely. But if there is no 
liberty, there is no action that merits either praise or 
, blame ; neither vice nor virtue ; nothing that ought ei- 
ther to be rewarded or punished. What, then, is the dis- 



276 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 

tinction among men ? The doing of good and the doing 
of ill ? The doer of ill is one who must be destroyed or 
pmiished. The doer of good is lucky, not virtuous. But, 
though neither the doer of good or of ill be free, man is 
nevertheless a being to be modified ; it is for this reason 
the doer of ill should be destroyed upon the scaffold. 
From thence the good effects of education, of pleasure, 
of grief, of grandeur, of poverty, &c. ; from thence a phi- 
losophy full of pity, strongly attached to the good, nor 
more angry with the wicked than the whirlwind which 
fills one's eyes with dust." 

It seems to be unnecessary to spend time in comment- 
ing on this passage, which does as little credit to the 
heart as the head of its author, and which is as much at 
variance "with sound philosophy as it is with good mor- 
als and the existence of society. Wherever such perni- 
cious principles have gained a footing, it is not surprising 
that the intellect should be obscured ; that the sensibiH- 
ties should be blunted ; that crimes, dreadfully revolting 
to human nature, should be multiplied ; and that even 
whole kingdoms should be convulsed, and clothed in 
mourning and blood. 

Let us, then, take that true position, wliich is clearly 
pointed out both by reason and the Scriptures, of humble 
dependence on God on the one hand, and of solemn re- 
sponsibility for our conduct on the other. It is impossi- 
ble for us to form too high notions of the power, wisdom, 
and superintendence of the Deity ; nothing is more fa- 
vourable to virtue than the conviction of his constant 
presence and oversight ; but, at the same time, we ought 
ever to remember that he has seen fit to impart to us a 
moral nature, embracing the elements both of power and 
liberty ; and, whether we account this gift as ten talents, 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 277 

or five, or only one, he holds us responsible for its use, 
and will punish the slothful servant who hides it in the 
earth. " For whosoever hath, to him shall he given, and 
he shall have more abundance; but whosoever hath not, 
from him shall he taken away even that he hath" 



CHAPTER VI. 

CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

§ 171. Objected that the views maintained are contra- 
dictory. 

We are now so far advanced in our inquiries as to 
find ourselves in a position where we are met by the ob- 
jection, expressed with some variety of phraseology, but 
in all cases to this effect, that there is an utter inconsist- 
ency and contradiction between the two doctrines of the 
freedom of the will and the subjection of the will to laws. 
J£ the Will is free, it is said, it cannot be subject to laws ; 
and if it is subject to laws, it cannot be free ; and, at any 
rate, there is something utterly incomprehensible in this 
state of things. — The consideration of this objection will 
occupy our attention in this chapter; and, at the same 
time, will incidentally furnish an opportunity for some 
remarks, which may not be unimportant in their practical 
applications. 

Aa 



278 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 



§ 172. Answered that they result necessarily from the 
evidence. 

In remarking upon the objection which has just been 
stated, and which undoubtedly exists in the minds of 
some candid inquirers, we wish it to be noticed, in the 
first place, that each of these two propositions, viz., that 
the will is subject to laws, and that the will is free, rests 
upon its appropriate evidence. We take it for granted 
that they are propositions which have a meaning and 
which can be understood ; and that, as such, they admit 
of the application of reasoning, and are susceptible either 
of affirmation or denial. In reasoning upon them, they 
have been made separate subjects of contemplation. The 
arguments by which they are respectively supported are 
entirely distinct ; and are, at the same time, so appropri- 
ate to the nature of the subject to be proved, and, con- 
sidered as a whole, bear upon it with so much force, that 
it is difficult to conceive how a well-balanced mind, which 
is open to the reception of truth, can resist the conclusions 
to which they lead. — And in making this assertion, we 
do not wish to be understood as offering a remark which 
is to be taken with some modification and diminution of 
its obvious import. The remark is based upon the con- 
stitution of the mind itself ; particularly so far as the na- 
ture and laws of belief are concerned in, and make a 
part of, that constitution. Every one knows that our be- 
hef is not a matter which is under our control in such a 
sense ; that we can believe or not believe, as we happen 
to choose. The mind is so constituted that we exercise 
belief, not in accordance with a mere and direct act of 
volition, but in accordance with the nature and amount 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 279 

of the evidence which happens to be before the mind at 
the precise moment of behef. 

And, with this view of things in memory, we feel fully- 
authorized in saying, that the evidence which has been 
brought forward in support of the proposition of the will's 
subjection to laws is such as, in ordinary cases, to remove 
all doubt. We look upon the proposition as proved ; not 
merely as probable, but as certain. It is not a matter, 
the reception and credence of which is left to our own 
choice ; but, on the contrary, such is the constitution of 
the human mind, we cannot possibly do otherwise than 
believe. — And these statements will apply equally well 
to both propositions. The proposition of the will's free- 
dom is attended with such an amount of evidence, appro- 
priate to the point to be established, as to be equally be- 
yond doubt, equally certain. We receive both with a 
full and unwavering conviction ; and such are the nature 
and fundamental principles of belief, that we are unable 
to withhold such conviction. 

If, then, our belief involves what appears to us at pres- 
ent an inconsistency or even a contradiction, (we do not 
say what we k7iow to be a contradiction, but what ap- 
pears to be such,) it is a matter w^hich we cannot help, 
and in respect to which, although we might wish it to be 
otherwise, we should give ourselves no unnecessary 
trouble. We are in the same situation (certainly not a 
less favourable one) as the sincere inquirer in other 
things. Does the natm-al philosopher, in pursuing the 
investigation of facts, stop to inquii-e what doctrines 
formerly received it will either favour or conflict with, 
what system it will build up or put down, what new and 
inexplicable mysteries it will involve 1 Is he not obliged 
to adhere to the testimony that is fairly presented to 



280 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

him, wherever it may go ; even if it should lead into a 
world not of pure light, but of mingled darkness and 
light 7 And in hke manner, in respect to the question 
before us, let us go firmly and frankly wherever the evi- 
dence conducts ; even if it should be found to lead us, as 
no doubt it will, to a great mystery, where the human 
mind stops and starts back, appalled on the one hand by 
its own feebleness, and on the other overwhelmed by the 
greatness of the divine wisdom. 

§ 173. Denial of the alleged contradiction. 

In answer, therefore, to the objection which has been 
referred to, we say in the first place, that we are bound 
by the evidence, whatever difficulties may attend the rel- 
ative adjustment of the results. If the objection were to 
some extent a valid and admissible one, (that is to say, 
if there were truly an appearance, a degree of probability, 
of inconsistency and contradiction,) this answer would 
be sufficient. 

But it is proper to say further, that there is no satisfac- 
tory evidence, either in a higher or lower degree, of the 
inconsistency and contradiction which has been alleged 
to exist. It has undoubtedly sometimes happened, either 
by design or from mere carelessness, that men have so 
framed their speech, have so selected and constructed 
their formulary of words, as to make a contradiction, 
when there is none in the nature of things, and none in 
fact. If we define freedom to be an exemption from 
law, then no doubt the proposition of the will's subjec- 
tion to law implies the exclusion of liberty. But, al- 
though bodily freedom can be defined, mental freedom, 
as we have aheady had occasion to remark, is not suscep- 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 281 

tible of definition ; it is something, indeed, which is a 
matter of experience, and is known by consciousness, but, 
like the simple and elementary emotions and desires, and 
any other subjects of mental realization which are truly 
elementary, it cannot be described by words. And if it 
were otherwise, the definition of liberty above mentioned 
would be wholly inadmissible ; for exemption from law 
is so far from constituting liberty, that it might be shown, 
upon grounds entirely satisfactory, that there can be no 
liberty, not even a possibility of it, where law has no 
place. So that we • feel fully authorized in saying, al- 
though we are under the necessity of leaving the inquiry 
with these few words, that there is no evidence of contra- 
diction in the case. 

§ 174. Admission of inexplicableness or mystery. 

But if it be merely said that there is something inex- 
plicable or incomprehensible, something mysterious in 
the relation • of the two propositions which have been 
considered, it is not easy to deny that there is truth in 
the remark. We cannot imagine that there is any undue 
humiliation, anything discreditable in the acknowledgment 
that such is the fact. Nothing is more certain than that 
there are many things, into the full measure of whose 
length and breadth, and height and depth, the human 
mind, in the present state of existence and under the 
present economy of things, has never been able to pene- 
trate. And it is undoubtedly the mark of true wisdom, 
frankly to acknowledge our ignorance in those cases where 
it must infallibly exist, and not to indulge either in pre- 
tensions which are unfounded, or in complaints which are 
useless. Such advice, indeed, may not be entirely accept- 
Aa2 



282 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

able to men of a captious temper, or of an intellect im- 
perfectly disciplined ; but it is fully warranted by cor- 
rect views of om' own powders, and of the relations we 
sustain to other beings. " The most enlightened of 
men," says Robert Hall, " have always been the first to 
perceive and acknowledge the remaining obscurity which 
hung around them ; just as, in the night, the further a 
light extends, the wider the surrounding sphere of dark- 
ness appears. Hence it has always been observed, that 
the most profound inquirers into nature have been the 
most modest and humble." These remarks of a writer 
so distinguished, not only for refinement of taste and fer- 
vour of piety, but for philosophical acuteness, naturally 
reminds us of some sayings of Mr. Locke, which indicate 
at the same time his characteristic modesty and candour, 
and his views of the very difficulty which we are now 
examining. " I own freely to you the weakness of my 
understanding, that, though it be unquestionable that there 
is omnipotence and omniscience in God om- Maker, and 
though I cannot have a clearer perception of anything 
than that I am free, yet I cannot make [meaning un- 
doubtedly that he could not explain and clear up in all 
respects how it should be so] freedom in man consistent 
with omnipotence and omniscience in God, though I am 
as fully persuaded of both as of any truth I most firmly 
assent to ; and therefore I have long since given off the 
consideration of that question, resolving all into this short 
conclusion, that if it be possible for God to make a free 
agent, then man is free, though I see not the way of it." 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 283 



§ 175. Of the limited powers of the huTnan mind. 

In this connexion, and as tending to support the views 
of this chapter, we think it proper to make a few gen- 
eral suggestions in respect to the hmited powers of the 
human mind. We may regard it as a well-estabhshed 
principle, that the mind of man, although it may be in- 
definitely progressive in some directions, is subject to the 
restriction of impassable barriers in others. How many 
objects of knowledge, in the sphere of material as well 
as mental nature, have altogether set at nought the inqui- 
ries of men ! Beyond the boundaries, whatever they 
may be, wliich God has assigned as the barriers of our 
faculties, is the land of darkness, the region of hiero- 
glyphics, the habitation of mysteries. We use these ex- 
pressions not in lightness of spirit, but merely to convey 
the fact as it exists, and with profound veneration ; for if 
those dark and mysterious places are not occupied by the 
human mind, it is certain that they are occupied and filled 
by another mind infinitely greater. The existence of 
mysteries, beyond its allotted sphere of action and inquiry, 
is necessarily an incident to every created mind ; for the 
mere fact of being created necessarily implies inferiority ; 
and that, too, in perception as well as in power. In one 
sense, indeed, it may be admitted, that man is great, and 
the honoured possessor of great and wonderful faculties.. 
Certainly this is the case when we compare him with 
the lower animals, that have no moral nature, and seem 
destined soon to perish. But let him never forget, that, 
under other circumstances, the view presented is entirely 
the reverse, and that he is as blind in intellect as he is 
poor in power; in comparison with God. He who suita- 



284 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

bly realizes the relation which he sustains to the all-wise 
Jehovah, will not presume to compare his feeble intellect 
with the infinite Godhead ; his understanding of yester- 
day, just kindling into light and life, mth the everlasting 
Sun of knowledge, ever effulgent and inexhaustible. 
Let this modesty of true wisdom, so suitable on every 
subject, have its due place in the matter under examina- 
tion. If we cannot see how the subjection of the will 
to law is consistent with its freedom, while irresistible 
evidence compels us to believe both the liberty and the 
law, let us arraign our incapacity rather than the proof 
before us. 

§ 176. Wejind things which cannot be explained every- 
where. 

If there were no other mysteries in the universe but the 
one in question, it might be thought less reasonable to 
submit quietly to our inability to explain it. But they 
are found all around us ; they exist everywhere ; and 
everywhere baffle our curiosity. We generally suppose 
it to be otherwise, because it may happen that we are 
unable to point them out ; but our inability to do this is 
owing to the fact of our not having given attention to the 
subject. We do indeed sometimes direct our attention to 
the mysteries which are placed at a distance from us ; 
but it is seldom that w^e look at those which are near at 
hand. In the time of the Apostle Paul, the opposers of 
Christianity objected particularly to the doctrine of the 
resurrection from the dead, on account of its being so 
mysterious, inexplicable, and wonderful ; but they did 
not consider, till the Apostle reminded them of the fact, 
that the conversion of the seed sow^n in the ground into 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 285 

the stalk or plant is no less wonderful, no less mysterious. 
Perhaps we might be justified in going so far as to say, 
there is nothing, however familiar it may be, which is not 
in some of its aspects replete with mystery. 

Can we explain how the soul and body exist and act 
together 7 Can we understand how God, who is a spirit, 
can fill all places vnth his presence ? Can we compre- 
hend how, under any circumstances, mind, which is so 
entirely distinct, can operate upon matter and put it in 
motion, as is the fact in our ordinary acts of volition ? 
Can we explain the operations of matter itself, even the 
growth of a blade of grass ? Do not the most familiar 
appearances of natm^e, though easily explainable in some 
thmgs, present in others insuperable difficulties ? And 
why then should we account it particularly unlocked 
for and strange, that, in the two distinct doctrines of the 
will's freedom and the will's subjection to law, we should 
find something which withstands our penetration and baf- 
fles our sagacity ? 

§ 177. Illustrated from the injluence of one man over 
another. 

We would furthermore propose to such as are disposed 
to insist upon the difficulty under consideration, that the 
same difficulty, or, at least, one closely analogous, is con- 
stantly occurring in common life. We refer to the fact, 
which is too obvious to admit of any denial, that one man 
is capable of controlling, and does in fact control, the will 
of another. By his wealth, or personal address, or per- 
suasive language, or powers of reasoning, he bends his 
neighbour to his own purposes. This is seen particular- 
ly in the case of the orator who addresses the public as- 



286 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

sembly ; and who sometimes not only sways the individ- 
uals composing it to his own purposes, but does it against 
the views and the determinations which they had pre- 
viously formed. Now here is a case where, according to 
the common understanding of it, the Will of one man or 
of many men is under the control of another ; and yet it 
is not the common understanding or the common feeling, 
that the Will of the former is not free. Here is a case 
in which law and liberty are, by our own admission, uni- 
ted together ; subjection and freedom are found in a state 
of combination. And why should we say, that what is 
possible with men is impossible Math God 1 

§ 178. The opposite supposition attended with equal dif- 
ficulty. 

But there is another consideration which is worthy of 
the attention of the objector. — Before we arraign the 
views which have been given, it seems proper to look at 
the results of the opposite scheme. If we exonerate the 
action of the will from the influence of all law, and leave 
it to the irregular control of what may be variously term- 
ed accident, indiiferency, or contingency, we do not there- 
by secure its freedom. Can that mind be free which 
knows not at one moment, nor can even conjecture, what 
may be its position, its acts, or its destiny at the next mo- 
ment ? It is very much in the position of that people 
who are under the direction of an irresponsible despotism, 
compared with which, a despotism, which is in any de- 
gree subject to law, is quite tolerable. A will without 
law is necessarily subjected to the highest despotism. At 
one moment the volition may be in one direction ; the 
next in a direction altogether opposite, without the ability 



CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 287 

to secure any fixed result. And it seems to be impossible 
in the nature of things, that man should be conscious 
(and its existence and nature are learned from conscious- 
ness alone) of freedom under such circxmistances. It is 
wholly inconceivable. So that, let the question be ar- 
gued as it may, it will always be found in the human 
mind, as in civil government, that law is the basis of lib- 
erty. 

§ 179. Both views are to he fully received. 

In respect, then, to the two distinct doctrines of the 
will's freedom and its subjection to law, there remains no- 
thing to be done but the cheerful, ready, and complete 
reception of both. And, with the views which we en- 
tertain, the outlines of which have been imperfectly laid 
before the reader, we are constrained earnestly to insist 
upon this, as the only correct and satisfactory position. 
The doctrine, that the will has its laws, is very important, 
considered in connexion with the relation which men sus- 
tain to the Supreme Being. This view places the will in 
subordination to that higher and more glorious Intelli- 
gence, from whom the laws, to which it is amenable, 
proceed. By adopting this doctrine, we are enabled 
to understand, how his full and perfect superintend- 
ence can be maintained. He has himself assured us> 
that he is intimately acquainted with the outward actions 
of men ; that he knoweth their down-sitting and up-rising ; 
and it is a pleasing and consoling thought, that his care 
and exact scrutiny may be extended even to the mind it- 
self. Who ^vill not rejoice to be, in soul as well as in 
body, in the hands of God ? Who will feel that there 
could be any better provision for his security than is thus 



288 CONSISTENCY OF LAW AND FREEDOM. 

furnished by the constancy and nearness of the Divine 
presence ? 'V\nio will attach any value even to independ- 
ence itself, when purchased at the measureless expense oi 
an exemption from the superintendence of the Deity ? 

§ 180. The doctrine of the will's freedom equally impor- 
tant with that of its siibjedion to law. 

On the other, hand, the doctrine that the will is free, in 
any correct and intelligible sense of that term, is of equal 
practical importance, since it is obviously essential to 
man's moral character and accountableness. It is a great 
truth, which demands to be received with entire and un- 
wavering confidence, that God has made man in his own 
image ; and that, in doing this, he has seen fit to consti- 
tute him with the attributes of freedom and power, as 
well as with the other attributes which are requisite to a 
rational and morally accountable nature. In the sphere 
which is given him, (whether more or less limited in ex- 
tent,) he has not only the ability, but is under the requisi- 
tion of acting for himself. No plea of inability can ever 
be admitted as an excuse for negligence, still less for utter 
inaction. There are claims, therefore, binding upon every 
man, which he cannot resist. So that the truest and high- 
est philosophy is to be found in that passage of Scripture, 
" Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 
for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do, 
of his own good pleasure." It expresses the great truth, 
and w^e may add, the great mystery^ of the harmonious 
combination of power and dependence. And it is the 
same in other things as in religion, that, if we will act for 
ourselves under the impulse of right feelings, our Maker 
will take compassion upon us, and act in our behalf; 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILI,. 289 

that, if we will faithfully do our duty, God will be as 
faithful to help us. Not an hour is spent in effort of any 
kind, in conformity with the directions of an enlightened 
conscience, and, to use the expressions which Milton's ge- 
nius has made so faniiliar, 

" As ever in our great Taskmaster's eye," 

which is not attended with a divine blessing. The doc- 
trine of a combination of power on the part of men, with 
complete superintendence on the part of God, brings God 
and men into harmony with each other ; it fully makes 
men co-workers with God, and yet under the twofold 
condition, without which God can neither be a sover- 
eign nor man a moral agent, of responsibility and de- 
pendence. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

§ 181. Of the occasions ofinental enthralmenf. 

It here seems to come in course to offer some expla- 
nations on what may be termed the Enthralment or sla- 
very of the will. The explanation of this subject, how- 
ever difficult it might prove when undertaken separate 
from and independent of other views of the Will, seems 
to follow easily, and, we may add, almost necessarily, from 
the views which have been taken of the freedom of the 
voluntaiy power. It has appeared from various remarks 
made in preceding chapters, that a knowledge of freedom, 
Bb 



290 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL- 

as actually existing in the mind in general or in any part 
of the mind, can be possessed only by means of our own 
personal Consciousness. And it has furthermore appear- 
ed, that the circumstances or occasion on which mental 
freedom actually exists in the highest degree, is to be 
found in the harmony of the mind's action. In other 
words, freedom exists in fact, and exists in the highest de- 
gree, when all the mental powers are in the precise place 
which their Creator designed for them, and when their 
operations are conducted mthout their coming into con- 
flict with each other. This is a position of the mental 
powers, which, by the very nature of the mind, is inci- 
dental and prerequisite to the highest degree of freedom ; 
and every deviation from it is attended with an interrup- 
tion and diminution of that perfection of inward liberty 
which men would otherwise possess. 

But if this view in respect to freedom be a correct one, 
then we are naturally led to suppose and to believe, that the 
precise opposite will be found to furnish the prerequisite 
circumstance or the occasion of mental enthralment. And 
such is undoubtedly the fact. In other words, whenever 
we find an internal jarring and conflict, whenever one 
power overleaps its bounds and another is jostled from its 
place, we are conscious of want of freedom in a greater 
or less degree, or, what is the same thing, of enthralment 
or slavery. And especially we have a sense of this in- 
ternal enthralment, whenever, in consequence of some in- 
ordinate appetite or some victorious propensity or passion, 
that presiding authority, which is .lodged m the Will, fails 
to execute what it obviously ought to, and what the con- 
science pronounces to be right and requires to be done. 



ENTHEALMENT OE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 291 



§ 182. Inability to define enthralment or slavery. 

But what is meant by enthralment or slavery ? What 
verbal definition can w^e give ? — If the question related to 
the enthralment or slavery of the body, we could proba- 
bly give a statement, or definition perhaps, that would ful- 
ly and precisely meet the question. But we have already 
had occasion distinctly to intimate, that the nature of cor- 
poreal enthralment and liberty throws no light, or, at most, 
but a feeble and doubtful ray, upon that of the mind. 
We are not more able, by any mere form of words, to 
explain Avhat is meant by slavery, when that term is ap- 
plied to the mind, than we are to define mental freedom. 
In both cases we are obliged to refer each one to his oAvn 
internal experience j but with a full conviction, at the 
same time, that this reference will fully answer the pur- 
pose, and cannot leave him in doubt. 

On the supposition, therefore, that each one as fully un- 
derstands what is meant by enthralment as by freedom, 
and that there is no mistake or doubt in either case, we 
repeat again, that, whenever there is a want of harmony 
in the mind, there is always a greater or less degree of 
enthralment. This want of harmony, this internal jar- 
ring and conflict, this aggression and resistance of the 
mental powers, will always exist, whenever any appetite, 
propensity, or passion, of whatever character, swells over 
its allotted limits, and becomes unduly and inordinately 
powerful. If we may be allowed to use such expres- 
sions, every part of the mind instinctively knows its appro- 
priate place, and will not suflfer itself to be thrust from it 
without much remonstrance and resistance. If such re- 
sistance is not successful, and if some one inward princi- 



292 ENTHEALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

pie, without regard to the original constitution of the mind 
and the equitable admonitions of conscience, usurps an 
undue control over others, we are conscious of what we 
may properly term mental slavery ; at least in respect to 
that particular part or faculty which especially suffers 
under this usurpation. 

§ 183. The nature of tnental enthralment illustrated by a 
reference to extorted promises. 

It may possibly be found difficult for the reader at first 
to apprehend the view here given, (and the same maybe 
said, perhaps, of various other topics which have come un- 
der our notice,) in consequence of such apprehension de- 
pending so much on his own internal reflection. That he 
must look within, and consult what takes place there, is 
true. And as it is undoubtedly desirable that such in- 
ternal reflection should be called into exercise as much as 
possible, we Avill endeavour to aid it by some instances. — 
We will take the case of a man who is travelling through 
an extensive forest, and unexpectedly meets with robbers. 
They suddenly present their pistols to him, and threaten 
him with immediate death, unless he promises to deposite 
a certain sum in a specified place on a certain day. He 
promises that he will do it. And it is an obvious ques- 
tion here, what is the view which men of plain common 
sense and the community generally take of such a trans- 
action ? They evidently do not consider it on the same 
footing with a promise made under other circumstances ; 
they do not regard it, in the full sense of the terms, as a 
BONA FroE promise and morally binding, even when they 
judge it expedient, in view of some incidental circum- 
stan^'jes, that it should be fulfilled. They always make a 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 293 

distinction (and it is a distinction which is fully recogni- 
sed in law both Municipal and International) between 
an extorted promise and a free promise. And if an ex- 
torted promise is actually different from a free one, it 
must be because extortion implies a degree of enthral- 
ment. And this is the fact. 

When the question of life and death is placed before a 
man at once, and without giving him time for reflection 
and for strengthening his resolves, the fear becomes so 
excessive, that there is no sort of proportion between the 
strength of the motive and that of other principles with- 
in him which might furnish the elements of resistance. 
Those supports, upon which the Will is wont to rely in 
seasons of trying assault and great emergency, are sud- 
denly overthrown ; and it is prostrated and carried away 
captive almost without a conflict. The person himself, if 
the circmnstances are of a nature so decisive as has been 
stated, experiences no convictions of guilt for subsequent- 
ly violating a promise made under such a mental pres- 
sure, nor is he condemned by the moral sense of the 
eonmiunity at large. They perceive almost instinctively, 
that, by a sudden conjuncture of circumstances, for which 
the individual is not himself responsible, the due balance 
and harmony of the powers of the mind has been destroy- 
ed ; and that it is unreasonable, in such a state of things, 
to expect results which can properly be the subjects either 
of praise or blame. 

§ 184. Elustration of the same subject from cases of 
torture. 

We may propose another illustration, which will help 
to make the subject more fully and clearly understood. 
Bb2 



294 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

In former ages it was no uncommon practice to put per- 
sons to the torture, in order to obtain their testimony. 
They were first subjected to the darkness and privations 
of a dungeon ; and after being worn down by this grad- 
ual form of suffering, their feet were apphed to heated 
plates of iron ; their flesh was burned and torn by pin- 
cers ; their limbs were wrenched and almost forced asun- 
der j and in these, and in various other ways, they were 
compelled to endure almost every possible degree of mis- 
ery. And it was not unfrequently the caSe, that persons, 
under this extremity of suffering, uttered what was untrue. 
But no one thinks of condemning the moral delinquency, 
if it existed at all under such circumstances, as equalling 
the aggravation of a falsehood uttered in ordinary cases. 
In all such cases, everybody perceives and feels that the 
due balance and harmony of the mind is destroyed. Such 
an extreme pressure is brought to bear upon the mind in 
a particular direction, that its parts become, for the time 
being, dislocated, and utterly incapable of any just and 
accountable action. In other words, there is an utter 
slavery of the voluntary power ; and as the individual is 
not the cause of putting himself in this situation, we often 
only sympathize and pity, when we should otherwise con- 
demn. It is indeed possible for us to condemn, in some 
degree, when the suffering does not appear to be extreme ; 
but the condemnation is always mitigated, and in many 
cases does not exist at all. 

" The common sense of mankind," says Mr. Stewart, 
*' pronounces men to be accountable for their conduct, 
only in so far as they are understood to be morally free. 
Whence is it that we consider the pain of the rack as an 
alleviation of the falsehoods extorted from the criminal 1 
Plainly because the motives presented to him are suppo- 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 295 

sed to be such as no ordinary degree of self-command is 
able to resist. And if we were only satisfied that these 
motives are perfectly irresistible, we would not ascribe to 
him any guilt at all."* — This is undoubtedly the true phi- 
losophy in- this matter. 

§ 185. Historical illustrations of the subject. 

And here, with the permission of the reader, we will 
introduce a piece of literary history, which we find in 
D'Israeli, who, in his attempts to interest the curiosity 
and to give pleasure, has, in various passages, thrown 
much light upon the human mind. In the reign of 
Charles I. of England, a man by the name of Felton, the 
assassinator of the Duke of Buckingham, was menaced 
with torture for the purpose and with the expectation of 
extracting from him the names of his accomplices. The 
communication, that it was the king's pleasure that he 
should be put to the torture, was made to him by Lord 
Dorset, v/ho accordingly gave him notice to prepare for 
the rack. Felton, after solemnly affirming that his pur- 
pose to commit the crime was not known to any man 
lining, said : '' But if it be his majesty's pleasure, I am 
ready to suffer whatever his majesty will have inflicted 
upon me. Yet this I must tell you by the way, that if I 
be put upon the rack, I will accuse you, my Lord Dorset, 
and none hut yourself r\ Here is a text in ethical casu- 
istry, affording abundant food for meditation. Felton 
foresaw that it would probably be impossible for him to 
endure the suffering which would be inflicted ; that he 
would be under a mental necessity of accusing somebody ; 

* Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Appendix i., ^ iiL 
t D'IsraeH's Curiosities ot Literature, vol. iii. 



296 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

and he considered it of but little consequence whom he 
should name under such circumstances, inasmuch as it 
could not rightfully be regarded either as a proof of 
falsehood in himself or of guilt in others. And was he 
not essentially right ? Can a man be considered as justly 
accountable for what is extracted from him imder the 
pressure of the intense sufferings of the torture. 

In Fox's well-known History of Cliristian Martyrdoms, 
a book where fiendish cruelty is arrayed side by side ^vith 
transcendent virtue, there is an account of a Portuguese*^ 
young lady, resident in the city of Lisbon, who was taken 
up by the inquisitors and ordered to be put to the rack. 
Unable to endure the torments that were inflicted, she 
confessed the charges brought against her. " The cords 
were then slackened," says the historian, " and she was 
reconducted to her cell, where she remained till she had 
recovered the use of her limbs ; she was then brought 
again before the tribunal, and ordered to ratify her con- 
fession. This she absolutely refused to do, telling them 
that what she had said was forced from her by the ex- 
cessive pain she underwent. The inquisitors, incensed at 
this reply, ordered her again to be put to the rack, when 
the weakness of nature once more prevailed, and she re- 
peated her former confession. She was immediately re- 
manded to her cell : and being a third time brought 
before the inquisitors, they ordered he to sign her first 
and second confessions. She answered as before, but 
added, 'I have twice given way to the frailty of the 
flesh, and perhaps may, while on the rack, be weak 
enough to do so again ; but depend upon it, if you tor- 
ture me a hundred times, as soon as I am released from 
the rack, I shall deny what was extorted from me by 
pain.' "* 

* Universal History of Christian Martyrdom, book v., 9 ii» 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE "WILL. 297 

Such illustrations and facts show clearly and decisively 
that there is such a thing as mental enthralment ; that it 
is not a mere fiction, but exists as truly and undeniably 
as enthralment of the body. And such being the fact, it 
becomes an important subject both of philosophical and 
ethical inquiry. 

§ 186. The will enthralled by the indulgence of the 
appetites. 

With these general explanations before us on the na- 
ture of Mental Slavery, and in particular of the slavery 
of the will, we are the better prepared to contemplate the 
subject by going more into pai'ticulars. — We have in- 
stances of the prostration and enslavement of the Will, 
unhappily too often witnessed, in the undue indulgence 
of the Appetites. Look at the man who habitually in- 
dulges himself in the use of ardent spirits. Every time 
he carries the intoxicating potion to his lips, the sensation 
of taste, in accordance with the law of our nature that 
the various states of the mind become more prompt and 
vigorous in their exercise by repetition, acquires an in- 
creased degree of pleasantness. At the same time, the 
feeling of uneasiness, when the sensation is not indulged 
by drinking, is increased in a corresponding degree ; and, 
of com'se, the desire, which is necessarily attendant upon 
the uneasy feeling, becomes in like manner more and 
more importunate and imperative. During all this time 
the internal harmony of the mind is interrupted. The 
other parts of the mind revolt, if we may so speak, 
against the usurpations of this unholy and destructive 
desire. The reason points out the evil consequences; 
the natural desire of esteem throws itself in front of the 



298 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF IHE WILL. 

enemy ; the conscience remonstrates and calls aloud ; the 
will summons up its strength and makes a serious resist- 
ance. But the desire, growing daily stronger and strong- 
er, gains the victory over one opponent after another ; it 
ti'amples on the innate regard for the good opinion of 
others ; it stops the hearing and puts out the eyes of con- 
science ; it pays no regard to the admonitions of reason ; 
like a strong man armed, it violently seizes the will, 
binds it hand and foot, and hurls it into the dust. What 
slavery can be more dreadful than this 1 

In connexion with this section, we wish to introduce 
incidentally a single remark. Enslavement is generally 
gradual in its progress and various in degree ; and we can 
oftentimes speak of one man as more free than another. 
And yet we do not ordinarily make this distinction, but 
are in the habit of speaking of a man as free, whom we 
at the same time know to be under the enslavement of 
the undue influence of his appetites, so long as the de- 
gree of freedom is such as to allow of his own voluntary 
restoration. This mode of expression may not in all re- 
spects be philosophically accurate. But it is concise and 
convenient ; and comes nearer the truth than any other 
formulary of expression, equally simple and equally well 
adapted to common use. We do not mean at such times 
to say that the person is free absolutely, and in the strict 
philosophical sense ; but popularly and relatively to his 
accountability and a new course of conduct. (See § 141.) 

§ 187. Enthralment of the loill occasioned by predomi- 
nant and overruling propensities. 

We may apply these views to other active principles 
of a higher order than the appetites, such as the Propen- 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 299 

sities and Passions or Affections. It is well understood, 
that our propensities and passions of whatever kind, as 
well as the appetites, grow stronger and stronger by rep- 
etition. And there are not unfrequently cases where they 
have become so intense, after years of such repetition, as 
to control, or, in other words, enthral the voluntary power 
almost entiiely. And we accordingly proceed to remark, 
that one of the most common and lamentable forms in 
which mental slavery exists, is the aggravated or inordi- 
nate state of Acquisitiveness or the Propensity to ac- 
quire. 

We sometimes find men, for instance, so entirely absorb- 
ed in the pm'suit of wealth as to annihilate them, as it 
were, to everything else. This pursuit so completely occu- 
pies every thought and feeling as to exclude all other ob- 
jects, and to render them mentally debased and subjugated 
to the lowest degree. Individuals are to be found, men 
too of great wealth, who are so entirely under the exces- 
sive influence of the acquisitive propensity, that they can- 
not be persuaded to expend enough for the coromon 
comforts of life, and who will even gather up the cast- 
off clothes, and sticks and nails, that are found in the 
street, to add something, even the merest trifle, to their 
heaps of treasure. 

The reader will find some account of the characteristics 
of the insane Auri fames, as he terms it, in the medical 
wTitings of Dr. Good, an acute and laborious observer of 
nature both in her material and immaterial forms.* 

•^ Good's Study of Medicine, vol. iv., p. 132, Coopers edition. 



300 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL, 



§ 188. The will enthralled hy inordinate ambition. 

The love of power, or ambition in any of its forms, if 
it gain an uncontrolled ascendency, will be found to 
cause such a degree of pressure upon the domains of the 
will, as greatly to perplex and even enthral its action. 
It will not avail the individual, who is the subject of this 
inordinate ambition, that he is not wanting in energy of 
character ; that he is, in ordinary cases, a man of great 
promptness and decision. There is no efficiency or ener- 
gy of the Will so great, either originally or by culture, as 
not to be perplexed, weakened, and, in some of the cir- 
cumstances of its action, entirely overthrown, by the in- 
ordinate increase of this passion. And we have reason 
to think that we can make this position good (saying 
nothing of the proofs which are almost daily and hourly 
presenting themselves to our notice) by a remarkable in- 
stance. 

If any one will take the trouble to examine carefully 
and to estimate the life of the Emperor Napoleon, he will 
be satisfied that there is nothing more worthy of notice 
in the character of that remarkable man, than his energy, 
his decision, his perfect control of all his powers. His 
control over himself was equalled only by his control 
over others. The movement of his volition, like some 
electric element of nature, instantaneously penetrated in 
all directions; and all persons who were in communi- 
cation with him, instinctively felt their own minds trem- 
ble and quail before it. But it cannot be too often re- 
membered and repeated, that the Will, like other mental 
capabilities, is a price put into our hands to be employed 
by us iii accordance with its nature ; and however great 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 301 

its natural or acquired energy, that encroachments can- 
not be made upon it from any other source without great 
danger. Unfortunately, the various situations in which 
the Emperor of the French was placed, all tended to fos- 
ter the love of power and domination. The acquisition 
of supreme dominion over the nations was the burden of 
his meditations, the constant object of his desires. In the 
end, the lust of power became so predominant, that, in 
all matters where it was concerned, there no longer re- 
mained any authority, any effective power of the mind, 
that seemed to be capable of checking and controlling 
it. That strong and impetuous Will, Vv^hich had subdued 
all others before it, was insidiously approached by this 
enemy from beneath, and, before the danger was fully 
perceived, "was taken captive and bound with cords of 
iron. Napoleon himself was conscious of his situation ; 
and feeling within him the demonstrations of this incon- 
trollable impulse, usui-ping an authority to which nature 
never entitled it, and driving him hither and thither in a 
mad and measm'eless career, he began to talk about his 
" horoscope," his " star invisible to others," " unaltera- 
ble fate," and " destiny." This is the common language 
of persons who have lost the true balance of the mind, 
and have permitted unauthorized passions to gain the 
ascendency. 

§ 189. The will enslaved hy the indulgence of the passions. 

One of the most common instances of an enslaved will 
is that of persons who have long indulged in angry and 
violent passions. It is said of Frederic Wilham of Prus- 
sia, the father of Frederic the Great, that he was " of a 
temper so violent and ungovernable, that his passions al 
Cc 



302 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

most amounted to madness."* And happy would it be 
if such instances were found only here and there on the 
pages of history. But it is a melancholy fact, as every 
careful observer of human nature knows, that there is 
scarcely a neighbourhood without them. These passions, 
which are so ungovernable at last, are perhaps feeble in 
the beginning ; and the unhappy subjects of them may 
not be fully aware, at first, of what will assuredly take 
place in the latter end. But for successive years they 
are repeated and indulged ; and each returning year, and 
month, and day, adds to their intensity. So that the man 
in this situation (to use an expression happily applied by 
a Latin writer to Alexander in one of his fits of rage) 
becomes, in respect to any control over them, impotens 
animL He is a victim, sealed to destruction by his own 
hand. When the occasion of the passion occurs, (and, in 
the case of the persons whom we now have in view, oc- 
casions are almost constantly occurring,) the feeble will 
trembles and bows before it like the flexible reed in a 
tempest. 

§ 190. Inordinate intensity of the domestic affections. 

It will throw some light upon the' nature of the En- 
thralment or slavery of the Will, if we consider the oper- 
ations and results of some of the benevolent affections, 
when such affections exist in a high degree of intensity. 
It is proper to add, however, that we have not reference 
to temporary excitements, to sudden ebullitions and gusts 
of feeling, so much as to a fixed and permanent intensi- 
ty. It might be naturally expected, that a sudden over- 
flowing of the affections would jar upon the harmony and 
* Lord Dover's Life of Frederic II., ch. i. 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 303 

interrupt the order of the mind's action ; not only in re- 
spect to the Will, but generally. Such cases we have 
not now particularly in view; but others of greater per- 
manency, though perhaps sometimes of less violence. 

It is sometimes the case, that the domestic affections, 
the love of parents for their children, or of children for 
their parents, or that complexity of deep and sacred feel- 
ing w^hich is embraced in the remembrance and the love 
of home, so pervades and fills the mind, as greatly, in 
certain situations, to embarrass the action of the Will, 
and, in fact, to subject it to a greater or less degree of 
enthral'ment. If the individual, in whom the domestic 
affections exist in a very intense degree, is for some rea- 
son separated from the hills and woods of his childhood, 
from the hearth of his fathers, from the endearing com- 
pany of those who sustain the most intimate relations, 
how greatly is his heart affected ! What exquisite an- 
g-uish fills his breast! Whatever plans he forms, what- 
ever course of life he proposes to enter upon, he finds 
that the lovely and cherished image of the past constant- 
ly rises before him, and, by its contrast with the present, 
renders him wretched. He makes various efforts to free 
Jiimself from the pressure of this mental thraldom; he 
calls up all the resources of his intellect ; he reasons upon 
the perplexities and miseries of his situation, but all in 
vain. The fatal passion, so deeply rooted in his bosom, 
constantly besets him ; it passes before and obscures the 
intellectual vision ; it prostrates and scatters to the wind 
the determinations, even the most deliberate and sacred 
resolves, of the voluntary power. 

If we may believe the statements of Rousseau and other 
writers, those inhabitants of the retired and solitary moim- 
tains and vales of Switzerland, who have been employed 



304 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

in foreign military service, have sometimes sickened and 
died under the influence of this strong and incontrollable 
love of country and home. 

" The intrepid Swiss, that guards a foreign shore, 
Condemned to climb his mountain cliffs no more, 
If chance he hears the song so sweetly wild, 
Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled, 
Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise, 
And sinks, a martyr to repentant sighs." 

§ 191. Of the slavery of the will in connexion with moral 
accountability. 

In concluding the remarks of this chapter, it is proper 
briefly to notice an interesting inquiry which naturally 
comes up here. The inquiry v^e refer to is. What bear- 
ing have these views on moral accountability ? — And we 
may undoubtedly answer it by saying, in general terms, 
that our moral accountability remains, in a greater or less 
degree, so long as the due proportion or balance between 
the various powers of the mind is not wholly destroyed. 
If we permit the undue and unholy exercise of any appe- 
tite or passion, we are indeed enslaved (in the sense in 
which slavery or enthralment is predicable of the mind) 
by such appetite or passion ; but we are not, therefore, 
removed beyond the reach of accountability and guilt; 
but, on the contrary, are both accountable and highly 
criminal, so long as there remain in our minds, either in 
the Will or anywhere else, any powers of right judgment 
and resistance. When such powers of judgment and re- 
sistance no longer remain, then our actions, of whatever 
kind they may be, are neither criminal nor meritorious, 
although we may be criminal for bringing ourselves into 
this situation. Mental slavery, when it becomes so in- 



ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 305 

tense as actually to disorganize the mind and to pass over 
into the regions of insanity, destroys accountability, but 
not before. So long as it does not pass within the limits 
of mental alienation, and become merged in insanity, it is 
so far from rendering a person guiltless, that it might not 
be difficult to show that guilt or sin is identical with it. 
In other words, that there is no sin where there is no 

SLAVERY. 

The Scriptures themselves seem to recognise some 
such view. " Jesus answ^ered them, Verily, verily, I say 
unto you, whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin." 
■ — " But I see another law in my members, warring against 
the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to 
the law of sin." — " Because the creature itself also shall 
be delivered from the bondage of corruption, into the glo- 
rious liberty of the children of God." — " For w^hen ye 
were servants of sin, ye were free'from righteousness." — 
" While they promise them liberty, they themselves are 
the servants of corruption ; for of whom a man is over- 
come, of the same is he brought in bondage." — John viii., 
34. Rom. vi., 20 ; vii., 23 ; viii., 21. 2 Peter ii., 19. 

It will be kept in mind, however, that we do not intend 
to apply these remarks to cases where the Will is brought 
into subjection by means extraneous to the person himself, 
and operating upon him without his concurrence or con- 
sent, as in the case just now referred to, of extreme suf- 
fering by torture. In all such cases, it is undeniable that 
moral accountability, on the part of the person who is 
subjected to such suffering, is either greatly diminished, 
or ceases to exist altogether. Under the pressure of a 
suffering so intense as wholly to prostrate the action of 
the voluntary power, he is no more accomitable for what 
Cc2 



306 ENTHRALMENT OR SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

he does, than he would be for what he is compelled to 
do by actual bodily constraint.* 

* Note. — It will perhaps occur to the reader, that this part of oui 
subject has an important Theological aspect. There is a philosophical 
basis for the question, and it may always arise, whether, in respect to a 
particular object or class of objects, the Will may not be under enthral- 
ment, whatever may be its character in other respects. Accordingly, 
the Theological question is, whether the human mind, either in conse- 
quence of Adam's fall, or of its own tendencies and acts, or of both 
combined, has not so far lost its freedom as to be unable to serve and 
glorify God in a suitable manner, without especial divine assistance. 
We believe that Theologians and religious men generally, especially 
those who have made the highest attainments in the Divine Life, are 
nearly unanimous in the opinion that such especial divine assistance is 
needed. They base this opinion upon a careful examination of human 
character and experience, as well as of the Holy Scriptures. As this 
Treatise is designed to be Philosophical and Practical rather than The- 
ological, we may perhaps be excused from entering into this view of the 
general subject, deeply interesting as it is ; especially as a thorough ex- 
amination of it (and nothing short of a thorough examination would be a 
profitable one) would extend the present work too far. 



PART IV. 



POWER OF THE WILL. 



CHAPTER I. 

NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

§ 192. Of the, distinction between liberty and power. 

We now enter again upon a distinct series of subjects, 
which present the will to our notice in a new aspect. 
They are subsequent in the order of examination, but 
they are not wanting either in importance or interest. 
In this last Part of our Work, we propose to examine 
the Power of the will and the various topics that are nat- 
urally connected with it.— But in making the power of 
the will a distinct subject of examination, it is proper to 
remark, that we deviate from the view of many writers, 
and some of them of no mean rank, who seem to have 
considered the Power of the will and its Liberty as one 
and the same thing. And this confusion of things which 
are entirely distinct, has been one cause of that obscuri- 
ty which has ever rested in too great a degree on the 
whole subject. 

It is not altogether surprising, however, that an error 
should have been committed here, when we consider 
how apt we are to confound together objects, whatever 
grounds there may be for a distinction between them, 
which are often united together in our thoughts. The 
material w^orld is so constituted, that in our perceptions of 
extension and colour, we find them necessarily always acv 
companying each other ; so that, after a time, we find it 
"ery difficult to exclude from our notion of the sensation 
of colour the idea of extension. And it is undoubtedly 



310 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

much the same in all similar cases ; and among others in 
that of FREEDOM and power, which also are found to be 
closely associated together. It is obvious that there is no 
freedom where there is no powder ; it seems to be undeni- 
able, that in the nature of things they go together ; and 
they are, therefore, so closely connected in our thoughts, 
that we ultimately find it difficult to make the proper 'lis- 
tinction between them. 

§ 193. Proof of the distinction between liberty and 
power. 

We presume to anticipate, that, after the reader has 
gone through with what we have to say on this general 
subject of voluntary power, especially if he will take the 
pains to compare it with what has already been said on 
the nature of liberty, he will not be disposed to take ex- 
ceptions to the distinction which we assert to exist be- 
tween LIBERTY and POWER. And yet, although it is un- 
necessary, in this stage of our remarks, to spend much 
time on this particular topic, there is a propriety in brief- 
ly introducing a few circumstances in support of the dis- 
tinction before us. — And, accordingly, we remark, in the 
first place, that there are sometimes diversities or differ- 
ent degrees in the amount of power, even to a marked 
and decided extent, while the amount of freedom is es- 
sentially the same, w^hich could not well be the case if 
liberty and power were identical. Take a single illus- 
tration. There is as much freedom, in any true and 
proper sense of the term freedom, in the mind of a child, 
whose intellect, just beginmng to open, cannot expand 
itself beyond the limits of his native village, as in that of 
a philosopher, whose thoughts embrace the world, and 



NATUEE OF MENTAL POWER. 31.1 

even systems of worlds. The sphere of the child's mind 
is indeed a very limited one in comparison with that of 
the philosopher ; but the degree of freedom enjoyed by 
it is essentially the same. But while there is undeniably 
in these two cases an equal, or nearly equal degree of 
mental liberty within the respective spheres of the mind's 
operations, no one will undertake to say that there is the 
same, or nearly the same degree of mental power. 

Again, if we take two persons equally advanced in 
years, we shall, in many cases, notice similar results. A 
truly virtuous man will always possess and exhibit a high 
degree of mental freedom. A vicious man will suffer 
under some form of mental distortion unfavourable to 
freedom. But, although the latter possesses less mental 
freedom, it is possible that he may possess much more 
mental power than the other. 

§ 194. The distinction of -power and liberty involved in 
the fact of our being able to form the abstract ideas of 
power and liberty. 

In the second place, our consciousness (that internal re- 
flection which we are able to bestow upon what takes 
place in the mind itself) assures us, that we are able to 
form the abstract idea of liberty, and also that we are 
able to form the abstract idea of power ; and if our in- 
ternal mental experience thus assures us of the existence 
of the two, it of course assures us of a distinction between 
them. Every sunple idea, as it is a unit and is insep- 
arable into parts, must necessarily have a character of its 
own, which is definite and immutable. And if we are 
capable, therefore, of forming these two distinct ideas of 
power and liberty (as the general consciousness on the 



312 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

subject seems clearly to testify) it will necessarily follow 
ihat they are entirely distinct in their nature ; and al 
though they may be closely connected together by acci 
dental circumstances, or in any other way, so much sr 
that we cannot conceive of the one without implying the 
existence of the other ; it is still true, that in themselvef 
considered they are entirely separate, each having an 
entity and a character of its own. And if the ideas of 
liberty and power are thus distinct from each other, then 
we are under the necessity of dravdng the inference, that 
the things for which they stand, or, in other words, that 
power and liberty, in their state of actual realization, are 
different from each other. 

§ 195. Distinction of poiver and liberty shovonfrom 
language. 

That there exists a distinction between mental power 
and mental liberty, and that this distinction is to be fully 
recognised and received, seems to be evident, in the third 
place, from the structure of language. In the English 
language we have the two terms in question, which we 
constantly use, not as synonymous terms, but as truly ex- 
pressive of things which are different from each other. 
And as it is the same in all other languages, we may 
well regard this as a circumstance which decisively indi- 
cates the general conviction and belief on this subject. 
The existence of a belief so general and so deeply found- 
ed does not appear to admit of any satisfactory explana- 
tion, except on the ground of the actual existence of the 
distinction to which the belief relates. 



NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 313 

§ 196. Further slwvyn from the fact of our -possessing a 
•moral nature. 

Fm-thermore, the possession of mental power, as well as 
of mental liberty, is involved in the fact, that man is a mor- 
al and accountable being. In all the leading questions 
which have a relation to our moral nature, we are thrown 
back upon the elementary suggestions, upon the first and 
immutable principles of our mental constitution. Our 
Creator has not left these questions to be settled by the 
abstruse deductions of philosophers ; but has written their 
solution in letters of light on the tablet of the common 
heart of mankind. All classes and descriptions of men 
are alike capable of understanding their import, and of 
rendering their interpretation. They all know, hardly 
less than they know their own identity, and far better 
than any human philosophy can teach them, that moral 
responsibleness implies the existence of power, and that 
the defect of power necessarily involves the negation of 
accountability. 

" There is," says Dr. Reid, " a perfect correspondence 
between power on the one hand, and moral obligation 
and accountableness on the other. They not only corre- 
spond in general, as they respect voluntary actions only, 
but every limitation of the first produces a corresponding 
limitation of the two last. This indeed amounts to no- 
thing more than that maxim of common sense, confirmed 
by Divine authority, that to whom much is given, of him 
much will be required." — " A certain degree of active 
power is the talent which God has given to every rational 
accountable creature, and of which he will require an ac- 
count. If man had no power, he would have nothing to 
D D 



314 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

account for. All wise and all foolish conduct, all virtue 
and vice, consist in the right use or in the abuse of that 
power which God has given us. If man had no power, 
he could neither be wise nor foolish, virtuous nor vi- 
cious."* 



§ 197. Origin of the idea offower in Original Suggestion. 

What has so far been said in this Chapter, at least 
when taken in connexion with the illustrations of volun- 
tary power hereafter given, abundantly shows, that there 
is a distinction between power and liberty, and that it is 
important not to confound them together. The subject 
of power, therefore, is a subject by itself; and requiring 
a separate and careful consideration. — And, in entering 
upon the examination of this subject, it seems to be a 
proper place here to say a few words in explanation of 
the origin of the idea of power. Power is obviously not 
anything wdrich is directly addressed to the outward sen- 
ses. It is not addressed to the sense of sight, as colours 
are ; nor to the sense of hearing, as soimds are ; nor to 
the taste ; nor to any other of the outward senses. We 
cannot see it, nor hear it, nor touch it, nor taste it, al- 
though it is everywhere actually diffused ; for it is a first 
truth and undeniably certain, that, wherever there is ex- 
istence, there is power, either actually in the thing itself 
or in some way connected with it. 

If the idea of power is not to be ascribed in its origin 
to external perception in any of its forms, we must look 
within for its rise. And in doing this, we find ourselves 
unable to assert anything more than this, that it is the re- 
sult (that is to say, it is made known to us by means of 

* Reid's Active Powers of the Human Mind, Essay iv. 



NATUEE OF MENTAL POWER. 315 

it) of that Original Suggestion, which has ah^eady been 
referred to as the true source of our idea of liberty. In 
other words, we are so constituted, that, on certain occa- 
sions and under certain circumstances, the idea of power 
naturally and necessarily arises or is suggested within us. 

§ 198. Occasions of the origin oj" the idea oj' power. 

But what are those occasions or circumstances just now 
spoken of, on which the faculty of Original Suggestion 
is brought into action, and in connexion with which it 
gives existence and birth to the idea in question ? 

Although on this point our "\dews may, perhaps, be at 
variance wdth those of some other writers, the occasions, 
so far as we are able to judge, appear to be threefold. — 
(1.) All cases of antecedence and sequence in the natural 
world. We are so constituted, that, in connexion with 
such cases of antecedence and sequence, we are led, at a 
very early period of life, to frame the proposition and to 
receive it as an undeniable truth, that there can be no be- 
ginning or change of existence without a cause. This 
proposition involves the idea of efficiency or power. — (2.) 
The control of the Will over the muscular action. We 
are so constituted, that, whenever we will to put a part of 
the body in motion, and the motion follows the volition, 
we have the idea of power. — (3.) The control of the 
Will over the other mental powers. Within certain lim- 
its and to a certain extent, there seems to be ground for 
supposing that the will is capable of exercising a directing 
control over the mental as well as over the bodily powers. 
And whenever we are conscious of such control beinff 
exercised, whether it be greater or less, occasion is fur- 
nished for the origin of this idea. It is then called forth 



316 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

or SUGGESTED. — (See the vol. on the Intellect, Chap, on 
Suggestion.) 

It is proper to add here, that the idea of power, like 
that of freedom or liberty, is simple, and, consequently, 
is not susceptible of definition, although no one can be 
supposed to be ignorant of what is meant by the term. 

§ 199. The idea of 'power involves the reality of power. 

But because the idea of power is undefinable, we are 
not, therefore, to suppose that it represents nothing ; in 
other w^ords, that power is in itself a chimera and nonent- 
ity 5 a mere baseless fiction of the mind, like those shad- 
owy and illusive pictures, which in times of ignorance 
and superstition are seen written in the air. This would 
be a great mistake. It is true that there may be com- 
plex ideas of things, as Mr. Locke has correctly main- 
tained, which are chimerical ; that is to say, which have 
nothing corresponding to them in outward objects, or in 
anything else, such as the ideas of a hypogrifF, dragon, 
centaur, gold lighter than w^ater, &c. But this want of 
correspondence between the idea and the object to which 
it relates or professes to relate, is never experienced in the 
case of simple ideas ; and it is not at all surprising that we 
should find this difference in these tv/o classes of our no- 
tions. Complex ideas, so far as the combination and 
arrangement of the subordinate elements is concerned, 
is the work of man ; and it may sometimes happen, 
therefore, that they are expressive, or, rather, profess to 
be so, of what has no real existence. But simple ideas, 
on the other hand, which result necessarily from the ac- 
tion of the mind under given circumstances, may be re- 
garded as truly the work of the great Author of our men- 



NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 317 

tal nature ; and it would be inconsistent with our ideas 
of his perfections, particularly his truth, as well as with 
our own consciousness and experience, to suppose that 
they ever express anything other than an unchangeable 
reality. 

§ 200. Things exist which are not made known hy the 
senses. 

Can it be necessary to say that there are existences, 
at least that there are realities, (whether they are exist- 
ences in themselves, or the mere attributes of things, or 
relations,) which have no outward and visible representa- 
tion ? We know that the contrary supposition would 
not be inconsistent with the philosophy of Condillac and 
Helvetius ; but present appearances, the result of patient 
and repeated inquiries, seem clearly to indicate, that the 
philosophical systems of those writers cannot, in this par- 
ticular at least, be sustained. It is undoubtedly true, that 
we do not have a knowledge of Power by means of 
any direct action on the outward senses ; that it has no 
form and outline, as if it were some material entity ; that 
it is not the subject of any process of material admeasure- 
ment ; that it is not an object of sight, hearing, or touch. 
But the leading writers on the mind agree in assuring us, 
that there are inw^ard sources of knowledge ', that there 
are things, and the attributes of things, which are not sus- 
ceptible of any material or outward representation ; but 
are made known by an original developement exclusive- 
ly taking place in the mind itself. And power, whether 
it be something in itself, or the attribute of something 
else, is one of this class. 

It would not be difficult to give instances in illustra- 
Dd2 



318 NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 

tion of these statements. Is there no such thing as de- 
sign or foresight? Is there no such thing as identity, 
unity, or number ^ as succession, and time, and space? 
Is there no such thing as intelhgence or truth, as wrong 
or rectitude ? And yet these are not made known by 
any direct action on the senses, but by the mind alone ; 
by the creative energy of the spiritual principle within 
us, called into action in the various circumstances inci- 
dent to its present situation. And it is certain that we 
have no more knowledge of these than we have of 
Power. 

§ 201. Of 'power as an attribute of the human mind. 

Without saying anything further on the existence and 
nature of power in general, and of the way in which we 
have a knowledge of it, we now proceed to remark upon 
power as existing in, and as an attribute of, the human 
mind. There is power somewhere. Is it also in the 
mind of man ? Does it reside there as something sub- 
stantive and positive, or is it merely an appearance ? 

In proof of the position, that power, in the strict sense 
of the term, is an attribute of the human mind, we may 
safely appeal, in the first place, to each one's conscious- 
ness. Every one is supposed to know what power is, al- 
though, as has been said, it is not susceptible of definition. 
And every man is conscious that he possesses tliis power 
in himself; not perhaps in so high a degree as it actually 
exists in some others, but yet in some degree. He is not 
conscious that it exists in him in the form of a separate 
faculty, analogous to perception or memory ; but that it 
exists as an attribute of the whole mind, and is diffused, 
in a greater or less degree, through all its faculties. That 



NATURE OF MENTAL POWEE. 319 

is to say, having from the earhest period formed a dis- 
tinct idea of power, and already knowing what it is, he 
has an original feeling or conviction that such is the case ; 
that in every exercise or operation of the mind there is 
and must be power. It is a matter upon which, so far as 
it relates to himself, he does not profess to reason ; for 
the conviction is an original one, approximating to the 
nature of an intuition ; and it is therefore, in his view, 
neither assailable by argument nor capable of being sus- 
tained in that v/ay. 

Furthermore, the existence of power as an attribute of 
the human mind is proved b}^ our observation of others. 
When we carefully consider the wonderful efforts of the 
human intellect, with what rapidity and consmnmate skill 
it embraces and analyzes the most difficult subjects, have 
we not evidence of powder ? V/hen we see men control- 
ling their passions, sustaining themselves in meekness and 
fortitude amid the m^ost cruel assaults, have we not addi- 
tional evidence 1 When we read of the Republics of an- 
tiquity, of the eloquence that shook and swayed the fierce 
democracy of Athens, and controlled the proud liearts 
and intellects of Rome, and in later times has risen with 
no less ascendency in the stormy periods of the French 
and English Parliaments, can we believe that these aston- 
ishing effects are the results of minds constituted without 
any infusion of the element of power 1 Might we not as 
w^ell turn our eyes to the sun in the heavens, when he 
throws his bright beams over the mountain-tops and the 
green woods of summer, and say there is no light 1 



320 NATURE OF MENTAL POWEE. 



§ 202. Further shown hy a reference to the Divine Mind 

On this subject (the existence of power as truly an 
attribute of the hmnan mind) it may not be improper, 
although it is to be done with suitable humility and cir- 
cumspection, to reason from the Supreme Being to the 
creatures he has made. We are informed, in the pages 
of Holy Writ, that man was created in the image of his 
Maker ; and it cannot be doubted that the similitude was 
mental, and not bodily. It was the mind, the spiritual 
part, that was honoured with bearing the glorious impress 
of the Divine lineaments. 

It may indeed be said, by way of objection, that the 
alleged similitude between man and his Maker is limited 
to man's moral nature ; but it should be recollected that 
it is impossible entirely to separate man's moral from his 
intellectual part. As the moral nature is based upon the 
intellectual, (for there obviously can be no accountability 
where there are no powers of perceiving and judging,) 
the existence of the former of course involves and implies 
the existence of the latter. If there be a reality in the 
distinction between right and wrong, there must be not 
only feeling and volition, but intelligence ; and we can- 
not conceive of virtue or vice in connexion with the ab- 
sence of either of them. — With these views of the con- 
nexion existing among all the parts of man's mental na"= 
ture, the intellectual, sensitive, and voluntary, we under- 
stand the statement of man's primitive creation in the 
image of God to mean, that there was really a likeness 
in kind, however diverse in degree ; and that this simili- 
tude extends to all parts of our mental nature, with the 
exception of what are pm-ely instinctive, or are essential- 



NATURE OF MENTAL POWER. 321 

ly connected with our bodily and material organization. 
The Fall of Man, it is true, has injured and defaced the 
original similitude ; but, with the exception of the prin- 
ciple of HOLY LOVE, the distinctive lineaments and attri- 
butes remain. 

Now no one will deny that power is an attribute of 
the Divine Mind ; and hence, reasoning from the Maker 
to that which is made, from the original and self-existent 
Archetype to the derived and dependent similitude, we 
have good grounds to believe, that power exists positively 
and substantively in man as well as the Being who form- 
ed him. " If it is granted," says an American writer, 
" that God is an efficient cause ; that in him is energy, 
activity, which constitutes Him an active agent; why 
may not man be endued with the same principle, so as 
to make him an active agent ? His being dependent, 
and his powers limited, are no objection of any weight 
against viewing him an active agent. If God can create 
a dependent, limited being, why can he not endue him 
with an active, dependent, limited principle of action 1 
I see no objection of weight against this, and, of course, 
prefer viewing a moral agent as really having in his 
heart the same active, energetic principle as we suppose 
God possesses. It is granted, this active principle in man, 
which renders him an agent, is dependent and limited. 
So is his being; yet he is a real being, distinct from 
God."* 

This, then, is the view which we think ourselves amply 
justified in taking, viz., that the Supreme Being has crea- 
ted men with power ; that he has communicated of his 
own fulness to those who would have been wanting with- 
out this communication. As the planetary orbs, while 
* Burton's Metaphysics, Ethics, and Theology, Essay xiii. 



322 POWER OF THE WILL. 

they revolve around the sun, and are dependent upon 
hun for motion and Hght, have nevertheless a distinct 
existence; in like manner, all intellectual and sentient 
beings, in their various orders, from the archangel down 
to man, derive their existence and support from the great 
Source of all knowledge and efficiency; and although 
they are created in the image of God and are constantly 
sustained by Him, have yet a distinct existence, a distinct 
though dependent agency, and revolve in their own ap- 
propriate sphere. 



CHAPTER n. 



POWER OF THE WILL, 



§ 203. Proof of power in the will from the analogy of 
the mind. 

But it is not enough to explain the nature of power, 
and to assert its existence as an attribute of the mind in 
general terms ; we proceed now to consider its existence 
in that particular faculty or department of the mind, 
which is denominated the will. Power is not only pred- 
icable of the mind in a general w^ay, but it is predicable 
of its parts, and particularly and emphatically so of our 
voluntary nature. The analogy running through our 
mental constitution furnishes some grounds and authori- 
ty for this remark. Men universally speak (and they 
undoubtedly believe they have good reason so to do) of 
the powder of sensation, of the power of perception, of 
the power of memory, imagination, reasoning, &c. The 



POWER OF THE WILL* 323 

structure of all languages (for they appear to be all alike in 
this respect) proves what they think ; and we may addj 
proves what they know on this subject. It is natural for 
the man who perceives to say that he has the power of 
perception ; the man who remembers or reasons, asserts 
without hesitation, that he has the power of remembering 
or reasoning ; and it is impossible to convince these men^ 
either that these expressions are improperly applied, or 
that they are nugatory and convey n© distinct meaning.— 
But if there is truly a foundation for such, expressions, 
and if there is a propriety and truth in the use of them, 
is there not equal propriety in speaking of the power of 
the WILL 1 If every other mental action clearly and con- 
vincingly indicates to us the existence of an innate ener- 
gy corresponding to such action, it cannot be supposed 
that the act of willing alone, which is a pre-eminent and 
leading exercise of the mind, exists independently of any 
actual basis of voluntary energy. The analogy, there- 
fore, of the mental constitution, (for we are undoubtedly 
at liberty to reason from analogy in this case, as well as 
others,) distinctly leads to the result that power is appro 
priate to, and is an attribute of, the Will. 

§ 204. The power of the will restricted and subordinate. 

But although the Will has power, it is not therefore 
independent. We have already seen ample evidence of 
its subjection to law. And in this respect it is on the 
same footing with the other powers of the mind. There is 
no exercise of memory without something remembered ; 
no perception without an object perceived ; and there are 
not only objects which the action of these faculties neces- 
sarily has relation to, but there are various other restric- 



324 



POWER OF THE WILL. 



tions (without any impropriety of language we might 
term them laws) by which that action is governed. But 
are we to say on this account that the attribute of pow- 
er does not belong to the perception, the memory, or the 
process of reasoning ? If so, we must, for like reasons, 
exclude it from every other mental susceptibility, w^hich 
is the same as to exclude it from the whole mind ; for the 
mental susceptibilities are nothing more than the mind it- 
self acting in various ways. And a mind without power 
is not an operative principle, but a principle, or, rather, an 
object operated upon ; and is, of course, destitute of all 
attractions and worth in itself, and of all moral account- 
ability to anything else. There may be powder, there- 
fore, which power is, nevertheless, under direction and 
control. And accordingly, w^hile we maintain the exist- 
ence of power in the Will, we must not forget its sub- 
jection to law, nor suppose that the one is at all incon- 
sistent with the other. 

§ 205. Proof of power in the will from internal expe- 
rience. 

That power is predicable of the will, as well as of any 
other faculty of the mind, or of the mind as a whole, is 
evinced not only by the analogy running through the 
mental structure, but by other considerations. Among 
other views to be taken of the subject now before us, may 
we not, in this inquiry as well as in others, make an ap- 
peal to our own internal experience % In other words, 
have we not, beyond all doubt, a testimony Avithin us, a 
direct and decisive internal evidence of power in the acts 
of the Will ? Do we not feel and know it to be so 1 — 
Let us take a familiar instance as a test of these inquiries. 



POWER OF THE WILL. 325 

When a person wills to go to a certain place, or wills to 
do a certain thing, does the volition appear to have been 
wrought within himself by an extraneous cause 1 Does 
it appear to have been created and placed there without 
any personal agency and effort 1 Or does it rather dis- 
tinctly and satisfactorily indicate to him an energy of his 
own t Few persons, it is believed, will hesitate as to 
what answer to give. 

Our consciousness, therefore, distinctly assures us, (al- 
though it is beyond all question that the Will is circum- 
scribed and regulated by its appropriate laws.) that with- 
in the limits constituting its appropriate sphere, its action 
truly originates in its own power. It wills, because it has 
the power to will. It acts, because it possesses that en- 
ergy which is requisite to constitute the basis of action. 
In the language of one of the characters of the great 
English dramatist, when pressed for the reasons of a cer- 
tain course of proceeding, 

" The cause is in my Will; I will not conae." 

§ 206. Proved from the ability which we have to direct 
our attention to particular subjects. 

In one particular at least, our internal experience seems 
to be clear and decisive, viz., that we are able to direct 
our attention to some subjects of inquiry in preference to 
others. It is admitted that we cannot call up a thought 
or a train of thought by a mere and direct act of voli- 
tion ; although we have an indirect power in this respect, 
which is not without its important results. But when va- 
rious trains of thought are passing through the mind, we 
are enabled, as it is presumed every one must be con- 
scious, to direct our attention and to fix it firmly upon 
Ee 



326 POWER OF THE WILL. 

one thought or one train of thought in preference to 
another. It is undoubtedly the tendency of association 
to remove the thought or the train of thought, whatever 
it is, from the mind ; but the powder of the Will, where 
it is decisively exerted, can counteract this tendency, and 
keep the mind in essentially the same position for a great- 
er or less length of time. And it does not appear what 
explanation can possibly be given of the fact, that we 
thus frequently delay upon subjects, and revolve them in 
our contemplation, except on the groimd of a real and 
effective energy of the Will. 

§ 207. Proof of power in the will from observation. 

Furthermore, the phenomena of human nature, as they 
come wdthin our constant observation, cannot be explain- 
ed, except on the supposition that the Will is not the sub- 
ject of any extraneous operation or power, in such a 
sense as entirely to exclude power or agency of its own. 
Do w^e not often see instances of persons, in whom vigour 
of the Will is a characteristic and predominant trait; 
and whose character and conduct cannot be explained, 
except on the ground that they possess a voluntary en- 
ergy of their own, and that, too, in a high degree ? Men 
have often been placed in the most trying circumstances, 
called to endure the pains of imprisonment, and hunger 
and thirst, and torture and exile and death; and they 
have undergone it all vpith a most astonishing fortitude 
and calmness, without shedding a tear or uttering a lam- 
entation. Here is something difficult to be explained, 
unless we take into consideration that innate powder which 
we assert to be an attribute of the Will. 

Whatever may be said of the fervid sincerity of his re- 



POWER OF THE WILL. 327 

ligion or the natural benevolence of his heart, are we 
able satisfactorily to explain the character and deeds of 
the illustrious Howard, except by taking this view 1 
" The energy of his determination," says a judicious and 
valuable writer, " was so great, that if, instead of being 
habitual, it had been shown only for a short time on par- 
ticular occasions, it would have appeared a vehement im- 
petuosity ; but, by being unintermitted, it had an equabil- 
ity of manner which scarcely appeared to exceed the 
tone of a calm constancy, it was so totally the reverse of 
anything like turbulence or agitation. It was the calm- 
ness of an intensity, kept uniform by the nature of the 
himian mind forbidding it to be more, and by the char- 
acter of the individual forbidding it to be less."* 

The case of Howard, marked and extraordinary as it 
is, does not stand alone. Every age of the world and 
every class of society have their men of this stamp. Ex- 
traordinary endowments of the will are as necessary to 
support society, and to meet the exigences of our situa- 
tion, as extraordinary endowments of intellect. But, un- 
fortunately, though they are given in the discretion and 
Avisdom of the great Dispenser of all mental gifts, they 
are not always wisely and righteously employed. A 
multitude of instances, of a character both good and 
evil, will occur to every one ; among others, Alexander, 
Cffisar, Regulas, Charles XII., Hannibal, Columbus, the 
Apostle Paul, Cromwell, William Tell, Chatham, Nelson, 
Ledyard, Mungo Park, Napoleon, John Knox, Luther, 
\Miitefield, Wesley, and numerous others, w^hose names 
are permanently enrolled in the religious and political 
history of men. The language of Ledyard will show the 
intensity of determination existing in such men. " My 
* Foster's Essay on Decision of Character. 



328 POWER OF THE WILL. 

distresses have been greater than I have ever owned, or 
ever will own to any man. I have known hunger and 
nak(idness to the utmost extremity of human suffering ; I 
have known what it is to have food given me as charity 
to a madman j and I have at times been obhged to shel- 
ter myself imder the miseries of that character to avoid a 
heavier calamity. Such evils are terrible to bear, but 
.hey never have yet had power to turn me from my ■pur- 
pose." 

§ 208. Of power of the will as exhibited in patience 
under suffering. 

We invite the particular attention of the reader to the 
/iew of the subject w^hich is now presented before him. 
If he ^vill take the trouble to contemplate it steadily, we 
doubt not it will have its due w^eight. We wish to be 
understood as distinctly and fully maintaining, on the 
groimd of common observation, that the Will has an ac- 
tual and substantive power ; and that it is utterly impos- 
sible to explain the phenomena of human nature except 
by taking this view. Nor do we propose, in support of 
our positions, to introduce merely extraordinary instances 
of energy of the Will ; but, on the contrary, should not 
hesitate to rest the issue of the inquiry on an appeal to 
cases which are of common occurrence. We have an 
evidence (an unobtrusive one, perhaps, but still worthy 
of our notice) of the power of the Will in that patience 
and submissiveness which we not unfrequently witness in 
the ordinary trials of life. Persons wdio have had their 
sensibilities wounded day after day, and hour after hour, 
have been seen at the same time to wear the smile of 
cheerfulness ; and so far from uttering complaints and in- 



POWER OF THE WILL. 329 

dulging a rebellious spirit, they have been uniformly kind 
to those who were the causes of their suffering. Others, 
w^ho have suffered under the approaches of a wasting and 
insidious disease, have completely succeeded in quieting 
the emotions within them, and permitted no murmur to 
arise ; they have even blessed these trying visitations of 
Providence, and have shed a loveliness, glorious for them- 
selves and cheering to the heart of the spectator, over 
the chamber of sickness and death. It is not enough to 
say that they may have possessed an enlightened under- 
standing or a virtuous heart ; nothing but the innate en- 
ergy of the Will (however it may have been supported 
by correct views and virtuous principles) could have si- 
lenced and subdued the secret voice of anguish. 

§ 209. Illustration of the subject from the command of 
temper. 

The fact, that men are not governed by a fatality im- 
pressed upon them from an exterior cause, but have an 
efficiency in themselves, may be further illustrated from 
the control which they are seen to exercise over their pas- 
sions, in what is called command of temper. Few say- 
ings are more celebrated than that of Socrates on a cer- 
tain occasion to his servant, that he would beat him if he 
were not angry. Hume, who is entitled to the credit of 
being a careful observer of human nature, speaks ex- 
pressly of the remarkable command of temper which 
was possessed by Henry W. of England ; and it is not 
tmcommon to find this trait pointed out by historians 
and biographers as one worthy of particular notice. 
The biographer of our illustrious countryman, Mr. Jay, 
says, that " he sought* not the glory which cometh from 
Ee2 



330 POWER OF THE WILL. 

man, and the only power of v/hich he was covetous was 
the command of himself."* And this power, although 
he was obliged to contend with a natural irritability of 
temper, he exhibited in a "very high degree. 

In a recent interesting Work, entitled Recollections of 
the House of Lords, there is a sketch of the character and , 
political labours of Earl Grey ; a name familiar to those 
who are acquainted with the leading events of modern 
English history. The anonymous writer, who every- 
where discovers his knowledge of the operations and ten- 
dencies of the human mind, speaks of him as follows. 
" He was not so insensitive to the attacks of his oppo- 
nents as was generally supposed. Those who knew him 
intimately were well aware, that his sensibilities in this 
respect were not blunted by the cares and anxieties of 
office. But he had great command over his temper. 
His philosophy had taught him the great advantages to 
a man holding so important a situation as he did, of con- 
cealing any soreness he might feel from the conduct of 
an opponent. He knew that to betray a loss of temper 
at the attacks of the adverse party was precisely the 
way to invite a repetition of such attacks. He therefore 
resolved to subject his temper, in this respect, to a severe 
course of discipline. He successfully carried his resolu- 
tion into effect!" 

§ 2 10. Further illustrations of this subject. 

It would not be difficult to specify other distinguished 

men, both of om- own and other countries, who knew^ how 

to conciliate the actings of a sensitive and enkindled 

heart with the coolest circumspection and the most per- 

* Life of John Jay^ vol. i., chap. xii. 



POWER OF THE WILL. 33 J 

feet self-command. But this is not necessary, since the 
trait in question is one daily coming within our notice. It 
is not uncommon, in almost every village and neighbour- 
hood, to observe persons of naturally quick feelings, and 
whose passions are obviously violent, and are prone to 
foam and toss about like the waves of the sea, who nev- 
ertheless have those passions under complete control, 
even in the most trying circumstances. 

And is it not a duty to exercise this control over the 
passions 1 " He that ruleth his spirit," says Solomon, 
" is better than he that taketh a city." And again, " He 
that hath no rule over his own spirit, is like a city that is 
broken down and without walls." " Be ye angry," says 
the Apostle, " and sin not ; let not the sun go dowm upon 
your \\Tfath." Here, then, is a great practical fact in the 
philosophy of the mind, and upon which important and 
solemn duties are based, viz., that the passions are under 
our control. But where is the power that controls them 1 
It is not enough to say that this power of regulation and 
control is deposited in the understanding 1 It is true that 
the xmderstanding can suggest various and important rea- 
sons why this control should be exercised ; but it cannot 
of itself render those reasons effective and available. The 
greatest light in the Understanding, and even if it were 
carried into the region of the Affections and the Con- 
science, could never bring this great result to pass with- 
out the co-operation of the effective energies of the Vv^ill. 

§211. Proved from the concealment of the passions on 
sudden and trying occasions. 

There are instances where the passions are repressed, 
or at least concealed, for the purpose of forwarding some 



332 POWER OF THE WILL. 

ulterior end, which indicate the existence of power in the 
■will. We might, perhaps, leave this statement just as it 
is, to be filled up by the private and personal recollections 
of the reader. But history, which furnishes so many val- 
uable expositions of the passions and the will, is not with- 
out its striking instances here. It is mentioned by those 
writers who have given an account of Sylla the Roman 
dictator, as a marked trait in his character, that he was 
capable of acting the dissembler to perfection. He was 
engaged in forming and executing gigantic plans for the 
extension of the Roman empire, at the same time that he 
had formed other plans of an entirely different character, 
and based upon the most dreadful passions, which he si- 
lently and calmly laid up to be executed at some distant 
day. One would have thought that his whole soul 
(such was his consiunmate ability in the management 
both of his present designs and of those passions which 
were afterward to be indulged) was exclusively taken up 
with his present business, and possessed no thought or 
feeling for anything else. 

The conspirators against Julius Csesar, after they had 
fully determined on his assassination, an event which in- 
volved either his death or their own, and perhaps both, 
were in the almost daily habit of meeting and transacting 
business with him; and yet that wonderful man was ut- 
terly unable to detect in the language, manner, or looks 
of the conspirators any evidence or intimations of their 
atrocious design. Does not this indicate on the part of 
the conspirators power of Will ? Cicero seems to have 
been excluded from the conspiracy, chiefly because he 
was supposed to be wanting in that decision and fortitude 
of purpose which was requisite to the occasion. 



POWER OF THE WILL. 333 

§ 212. Further instances of concealment and repression 
of the passions. 

We may go farther and say, that people may not only 
avail themselves of the power of the Will to subdue their 
passions or to conceal them, and that, in so doing, they 
prove the existence of power in the Will, but they not 
unfrequently subdue them to a certain point, letting them 
run in certain directions and not in others ; or repressing 
them to a certain degree, and permitting them to rage 
below that degree. 

An instance will help to illustrate what we mean. 
The author of the Recollections of Mirabeau gives an ac- 
count of a quarrel which took place between Mirabeau 
and Claviere, two names which must be familiar to all 
who are acquainted with the events of the French Rev- 
olution. — " A singular circumstance, which struck me 
very forcibly, had called this quarrel to my recollection. 
Mirabeau and Claviere, although beside themselves with 
rage, maintained, with regard to each other's characters, 
a discretion which surprised me. I trembled every mo- 
ment lest Claviere should utter some ta\mts regarding* 
Mirabeau's private conduct, and tax him with meanness 
in pecuniary matters. But, although he had frequently 
mentioned such things to me, he was too much master of 
himself to utter them now ; while Mirabeau, on the other 
hand, foaming with pride and anger, had still the address 
to mingle with his invectives testimonies of esteem, and 
compliments upon Claviere's talents. Thus they scratch- 
ed and caressed each other with the same hand." — The 
same writer makes another statement in regard to Mira- 
beau which is applicable here. " In the tribune he was 



334 POWER OF THE WILL. 

immoveable. They who have seen him well know chat 
no agitation in the assembly had the least effect upon 
him, and that he remained master of his temper even un- 
der the severest personal attacks. I once recollect to 
have heard him make a report upon the city of Marseilles, 
Each sentence was interrupted from the cote droit with 
low abuse ; the words calumniator, liar, assassin, and ras- 
cal, w^ere very prodigally lavished upon him. On a sud- 
den he stopped, and w^th a honeyed accent, as if what he 
had stated had been most favourably received, 'I am 
waiting, gentlemen,' said he, ' until the fine compliments 
you are paying me are exhausted.' "* 

^215. Elustrated from the ^prosecution of some general 
'plan. 

We find further illustration and proof of that energy 
which is appropriate to the Will, in instances where 
individuals adopt and pursue, for a length of time, some 
general plan. Not unfrequently they fix upon an object, 
which involves either their interest or their duty, and 
prosecute it wath a perseverance and resolution which 
is truly astonishing. Nor is this state of things limited 
to those who have been elevated by rank, or have had 
the advantages of learning. It is often the case, that we 
see this fixedness of purpose, this unalterable resolution, 
among those w^ho have been greatly depressed by poverty, 
and who are ignorant as well as poor. 

* Note. — The reader will find an interesting statement, illustrative of 
this view of the subject, in Count Segur's History of the Expedition to 
Russia, book ix , eh. vi. It is an account of an interview between Na- 
poleon and the German general Winzingerode. On the part of Napo- 
leon the interview was violent and angry. But Segur very correctly re- 
marks, " there was calculation even in his wrath." 



POWER OF THE WILL. 335 

Some years since, a poor Irish girl came over to this 
country from Queen's county, in Ireland, for the purpose 
of making some provision, and obtaining a situation of 
greater comfort, for her depressed and suffering family. 
Alone and unprotected, she left the home of her father 
with only ten dollars in money ; travelled on foot about 
fifty miles to the city of Dublin ; succeeded in obtaining 
a passage on board a vessel bound for Quebec, and ulti- 
mately found her way into the United States. She there 
pursued her object through long-continued trial and suf- 
fering, until the smiles of a kind Providence rewarded 
her filial piety, and furnished the means which soon 
brought to her arms the beloved family she had left be- 
hind. Now here is a case in common life, without any 
artificial aids and excitement which can be supposed to 
have sustained it ; and if we could open and expose to 
the view of the world the records of the suffering and 
virtuous poor, we should undoubtedly find many like it. 
" In the obscurity of retirement," says the author of La- 
con, " amid the squalid poverty and revolting privations 
of a cottage, it has often been my lot to mtness scenes of 
magnanimity and self-denial, as much beyond the belief 
as the practice of the great; a heroism borrowing no 
support, either from the gaze of the many or the admira- 
tion of the few, yet flourishing amid ruins and On the 
confines of the grave ; a spectacle as stupendous in the 
moral world, as the Falls of Niagara in the natural." 
And can we explain this greatness of soul, this fixedness 
of purpose, this indomitable resolution, which is displayed 
in every condition of society, in humble as well as in ele- 
vated life, consistently with the supposition that the Will 
has no power ? 

But there are other facts of a higher character and a 



336 POWER OF THE WILL. 

more general interest, as they involve the welfare, not 
only of individuals and families, but of whole classes of 
men. They are too nimierous to be mentioned here ; but 
they are recorded, and will long continue to be so, in the 
faithful register of grateful hearts. Are there not many 
individuals, who, like the benevolent Clarkson, have fixed 
upon some plan of good-will to men, embracing a great 
variety and degree of effort, and have pursued it amid 
every form of trial and opposition for years and tens of 
years ? The individual just referred to proposed the 
simple object of the Abolition of the Slave Trade. To 
this one object he consecrated his life and all his powers. 
He permitted no opposition to divert him from his pur- 
pose. But amid great apathy of the public mind, and 
great opposition on the part of those who were person- 
ally interested in his defeat ; amid the most arduous la- 
bours, attended with a thousand discouragements, and 
protracted for many years ; in rebuke, and sickness, and 
sorrow, this one object was the star that guided him on, 
the light that sustained him, and which he followed with- 
out giving way to his trials or relaxing in the least from 
his efforts until it was secured. 

214. The subject illustrated from the course of the first 
settlers of JYew-England. 

The course of the first settlers of New-England is an 
instance favourable for the illustration of the subject be- 
fore us. Their simple object was to find a residence 
somewhere where they could live in the full and free 
exercise and enjoyment of their religion. And this was 
an object which, under the circmnstances of the case, 
was not to be carried into effect without great firmness 



POWER OF THE WILL. 337 

and perseverance. They left behind them, in their na- 
tive country, a thousand objects which the world holds 
most dear. Despised and outcast, they came to these 
inhospitable shores in sorrow, and weakness, and pov- 
erty. They suffered from the want of provisions, from 
the prevalence of wasting sickness, from the storms and 
cold of winter, and from the watchful jealousy and hos- 
tility of the savage tribes. Though sincerely and ar- 
dently religious, it cannot be denied that they had their 
seasons of discouragement ; and often feared and often 
doubted. But when all without w^as darkness, and when 
even the inward lights burned dimly, the high purpose 
which they had once deliberately and prayerfully formed 
remained unchanged. They held on by the anchor of a 
determined resolve. So that it can be said with almost 
strict truth, that the Will sustained them when the Heart 
was broken. 

§ 215. Elustrated hy the fortitude exhibited by Savages. 

We might go on multiplying illustrations of this sub- 
ject almost without number ; drawn, too, from every class 
of men, and from every condition of society, savage as 
well as civilized. We have often thought that the life 
of the savage warrior furnished an interesting philosoph- 
ical problem. Let the reader go with us a moment to 
yonder dark and boundless forest. Behold beneath the 
light of the uncertain and shuddering moon, the fire 
kindled which is destined to consume the victim taken in 
war. View him fastened to the stake, his flesh slowly 
consumed, and, as it is burning, torn piecemeal from his 
blackened bones. What inexpressible suffering ! And 
yet this dark son of the forest, this poor ignorant child of 
Ff 



338 SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

nature, betrays no weakness of purpose, sheds no tear, 
utters no exclamation of impatience. His enemies can 
take from him his distant wigwam, his wife and children, 
his burning body, his expiring life ; but the sudden death- 
song, rising loudly and triumphantly, is a proof that they 
have not taken, nor are they able to take from him, the 
firm resolve, the unconquerable Will. 

Here are the facts which are presented before us ; not 
all, indeed, which can be brought forward, and perhaps 
they are not those which are best adapted to our purpose. 
But, such as they are, they are undeniable. They are 
inscribed on every page of the history of the human race. 
And we may challenge philosophy or anything else sat- 
isfactorily to explain them, except on the ground of the 
innate energy, not merely of the mind as a whole, but of 
the voluntary faculty in particular. 



CHAPTER III. 

SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

§ 216. General remarks on a self-determining power. 

But admitting all that has been said, and freely grant- 
ing that there is a true and substantive power in the Will, 
the inquiry may still remain, what is the nature of this 
power 1 On this particular topic we take the liberty 
to refer the reader to the remarks which have already 
been made on the nature of power, considered as applica- 
ble to, and as an attribute of, the mind in general. Those 
remarks are not less applicable to the parts of the mind, 



. SELF-DETEKMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 339 

than they are to the mind considered as a whole. They 
do not appear, however, to reach one question, which has 
been the subject of much inquiry and interest, viz., the 
self-determining power of the Will, as it is termed. This 
question, therefore, is entitled to a brief notice. 

§ 217. Of a self-determinijig power of the mind. 

In endeavouring to answer the inquiry, whether the 
Will has a self-determining power, we remark, in the 
first place, that we must attend carefully to the import of 
the terms. If, for instance, by the self-determining power 
of the Will be meant the self-determining power of the 
MIND, considered as a whole, we may grant that there is 
such a power under the circumstances in which we ac- 
tually exist. Under these circumstances, it is the natural 
result that the understanding or intellect should be more 
or less developed. Thought is obviously incidental to 
the nature of the mind, when objects of thought are 
brought within its reach. And as, in the circumstances 
in which we are placed, such objects exist all around it, 
the intellect or understanding always makes them the sub- 
ject of examination and knowledge ; and, we may add, 
what is the important circumstance here, that it makes 
them the subject of knowledge by its own power. 

Furthermore, the mind is so constituted, that the devel- 
opement of the Intellect is always followed by the expan- 
sions and exercise, in a greater or less degree, of the sensi- 
bilities ; that is to say, of the desires, emotions, and feelings 
of moral obligation. And in this state of things we have 
an adequate and ample basis for the action of the Will. 
In this way, and in this natural order of things, the whole 
mind is brought into action. So that we may undoubt^ 



340 SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

edly admit, and may assert with entire truth, that the 
mind, under the circumstances in which we are placed, 
possesses w^hat may be called (although there is certain- 
ly no peculiar felicity in the expression) a self-determin- 
ing power. In other words, it perceives, and it feels, and 
it wills of itself. In each case, viz., in perception, in the 
various forms of feeling, and in volition, there is pow- 
er, subject, however, as we should always keep in mind, 
to conditions. Having the power to will, it wills, be- 
cause it feels ; having the power to feel, it feels, because 
it perceives ; and having the power to perceive, it per- 
ceives, because objects of perception are involved in the 
circumstances in which it is placed. Under these circum- 
stances, therefore, the mind acts of itself or has a self- 
determining power. Or, what 'is the same thing, its ex- 
ercises, although they are in their origin subject to some 
conditions, are its own exercises. 

§ 218. Of the objective or outward sphere of the mind's 
activity. 

It may perhaps be suggested here, in connexion with 
what has just been said, that the sphere of the mind's free- 
dom encircles that of the Willj and that the greater 
sphere, viz., of the mind, is encircled and circmnscribed 
by the objects which are presented to it. And that in 
this way both the general mental freedom and the sub- 
ordinate voluntary freedom are obstructed. — In connex- 
ion with this suggestion, we remark. First. The ob- 
jects which are presented to the human mind, and which 
furnish the objective or outward basis of its activity and 
self-determination, are numberless. The human intellect 
has hardly strength enough to sustain the mere con- 



SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 341 

templation of them. Second. The mind views these ob- 
jects in a great variety of aspects. And every aspect is, 
relatively to the mind's operations, a neio object. And 
thus the objects, which were originally numberless, are in- 
definitely multiplied. Third. Besides the objects and the 
aspects in which they present themselves, in themselves 
considered, there are also a multitude of natural rela- 
tions, which very much exceed in number the original 
objects. Fourth. All these objects and aspects of ob- 
jects and natural relations may be contemplated in the 
light of the moral vision. In other words, we may have 
a knowledge of moral as well as natural relations. 

It would seem that we have here a basis for the men- 
tal activity, and through the mediation of the other parts 
of the mind, for the activity and freedom of the Will, 
sufficiently extensive to satisfy any reasonable views of the 
subject. The basis of mental freedom, considered in this 
point of view, presents itself in the aspect of a great and 
wide sea, which, to the utmost human vision, has no 
bounds, no shore. 

§ 219. Of a self-detennining 'power of the will. 

In the second place, if, by the phrase self-determining 
power of the Will, be merely meant that the Will itself, 
that distinct susceptibility of the mind which we thus de- 
nominate, has POWER OF action, we grant that' it is so. — 
We have already seen that the mind, considered as a 
whole, has power. In this sense, as well as in others, 
the mind is created in the image of God. And where- 
ever else that power may be lodged, it has its residence 
peculiarly in the mental susceptibility which we denom- 
inate the Will. That the Will, therefore, in connexion 

Ff2 



342 SELF-liETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

with the multitude of objects that are presented before it, 
and under the conditions which its Maker has assigned 
to it, possesses the capabihty of movement or action ; in 
other words, that it does of itself act, arbitrate, deter- 
mine, or decide in the circumstances appropriate to its 
action, w^e do not deny ; but, on the contrary, admit and 
affirm it to be so. 

Perhaps, however, a question of this kind wall arise 
here. Has the Will, having arbitrated or decided in a 
given case, the power to decide differently, all the -cir- 
cumstances under which the present decision is made 
remaining the same 1 We answer, First. If this ques- 
tion is to be decided at all, it must, as it seems to us, 
be decided on the ground of Consciousness. But the 
testimony of Consciousness, as is generally agreed among 
mental philosophers, reaches only to mental acts, and to 
the actual varieties and modifications, such as the actually 
existing freedom and power, of those acts ; and not to 
what is merely conjectural, or, in other words, to supposed 
possibilities. We do not, therefore, clearly see how the 
proposed question can, on philosophical groimds, be satis- 
factorily decided. — And not only this. In order to illus- 
trate the subject, we wall make a supposition. We will 
suppose that the Will, in a given case, decides in entire 
accordance both with the desires and feelings of obliga- 
tion, which is not unfrequently the fact. In other words, 
it decides in accordance with all the motives which, in 
the present constitution of the mind, can possibly be pre- 
sented to it. Then the perplexing question arises, What 
is the ground or basis of the supposed opposite decision 1 
Is the conjectural opposite decision to be regarded as a 
decision without cause, without reason, without motive ? 

Second. The inquiry under consideration appears to 



SELF-DETERMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 343 

be practically of but little importance. The great matter 
for us to know is, that the Will acts, and that it truly acts 
with such freedom and such power as to lay the basis of 
accountability. And knowing this, (and certainly we are 
able to know this without overstepping the limits of an 
acknowledged and sound philosophy,) it does not appear 
to be necessary to go fui'ther, even if it were possible. 

§ 220. Of such a self-determining power of the will as 
involves the dependence of the present volition on a for- 
mer one. 

There is still another view of the subject. If, (as is 
sometimes understood by those expressions,) by the phrase 
self-determining power of the Will, is meant a power, in 
virtue of which the Will acts in order to determine its 
own action, then we may confidently assert, that the prop- 
osition which alleges the existence of such self-deter- 
mining power, involves what is obviously contradictory 
and absurd. The reader is requested to notice the man- 
ner in which the terms in question are understood by us 
in the remarks which are now to be made. We under- 
stand the only remaining meaning of the phrase, self-de- 
termining power of the Will, to be this, viz., that, in vir- 
tue of the Will's power, every volition is preceded by 
another well-defined act of the will, and in such a way 
that such volition could not have existed without the pre- 
ceding act ; in other words, that the will, in the exercise 
or by the action of its self-determining power, causes or 
brings to pass the volimtary state of the mind or volition ; 
a form of expression which evidently and necessarily im- 
plies an act of the will antecedent to volition. — This doc- 
trine, so far as we are able to form a judgment of it, 



344 SELF-DETEKMINING POWER OF THE WILL. 

seems to be in itself exceedingly absurd and even incon- 
ceivable. 

If every volition is based upon a preceding act of the 
will as the condition of its existence, may we not vnth 
propriety and with pertinence ask, what causes this pre- 
ceding act 1 And we must be told again, (for we know 
of no other possible answer,) it is the Will's self-deter- 
mining power ; an explanation which obviously implies 
an act existing anterior to the before-mentioned antece- 
dent act. And thus, on this system, we should be obliged 
to go on from one step to another, from the volition which 
is the immediate antecedent of the outward action to an- 
other volition which is the antecedent and the cause of 
that, and then again to another still antecedent volition ; 
and so on without end. A self-determining power, there- 
fore, in the sense which we now suppose to be contended 
for, implies a perpetual going round and round, a move- 
ment in a circle without any end. So far from giving 
power to the Will in any special and extraordinary sense, 
the doctrine in question deprives it of all power ; it makes 
it a mere automaton, with a mechanism indeed, capable 
of generating a series of perpetual motions ; but which 
motions have no perceptible, nor even conceivable begin- 
ning or termination.^ 

§ 221. Opinions of President Edwards on this subject. 

Upon this particular view of the subject now before us„ 
we take the liberty of appealing to the statements of 
President Edwards ; and we do not know that anything 
can profitably be added to wliat he has said. We have 
already, in the preceding section, given the substance of 
some of his remarks, but the reader is entitled to his own 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 345 

words. " If the will determines the will, then choice or- 
ders and determines the choice ; and acts of choice are 
subject to the decision, and follow the conduct of other 
acts of choice. And, therefore, if the ^vill determines all 
its own free acts, then every free act of choice is deter- 
mined by a preceding act of choice choosing that act. 
And if that preceding act of the will or choice be also a 
free act, then, by these principles, in this act too, the will 
is self-determined : that is, this, in like manner, is an act 
that the soul voluntarily chooses ; or, which is the same 
thing, it is an act determined still by a preceding act of 
the will, choosing that. And the like may again be ob- 
served of the last-mentioned act. Which brings us di- 
rectly to a contradiction : for it supposes an act of the 
will preceding the first act in the whole train, directing 
and determining the rest ; or a free act of the will before 
the first free act of the will."* 



CHAPTER IV. 

DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

§ 222. Differences in voluntary poiver seldom noticed. 

There is one aspect in which this subject remains to be 
contemplated, which may tend to throw some light on 
what has already been stated under the general head of 
Power of the Will ; we refer to differences of volun- 
tary POWER. This is a view of the human mind which 
has seldom, owing perhaps to erroneous or indistinct 
* Edwards's Inquiry into the Will, part ii., ^ 1. 



346 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

views on the whole subject of mental power, received that 
attention to which it appears to be entitled. It is no un- 
common thing to hear remarks made upon differences of 
strength in the passions of men, or in their faculties of 
perception and reasoning, but it is exceedingly seldom 
that we notice anything said in explanation of differences 
in the capability of the Will. But if there is truly a 
power, an original and substantive efficiency, lodged in 
the Will, it is certainly a natural presumption that we 
should find degrees and diversities in this power, not less 
than in any other ability of the mind. And facts which 
are constantly presented to our notice show this to be 
the case. 

§ 223. Remarks on constitutional weakness of the vnll. 

If we will take the trouble to examine the characters 
of men, as we find them developed more or less in the 
pursuits of life, we shall not fail to find some who ex- 
hibit, not occasionally merely, but as a general thing and 
as a permanent trait of mind, a feebleness of resolution, 
a sort of vacillancy. a continual oscillation, if one may 
be allowed the expression, between one thing and anoth- 
er. No arguments, no motives, no considerations of in- 
terest, duty, or glory, are able permanently to countervail 
and prop up this inherent weakness. They may indeed 
sustain it for a time ; the imbecility of purpose which 
marks the history of these persons may not always be 
discoverable in the ordinary circumstances of life, espe- 
cially when the Will is supported by considerations suit- 
able to give it strength ; but in the onset of perilous cir- 
cumstances, in the close pressure of portentous danger, 
in sudden and fearful emergencies of any kind whatever, 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 317 

instead of standing erect and immoveable, they are over- 
w^helmed and driven away, " like the heath in the desert." 
And if this statement is correct, it certainly presents an 
important aspect in the developements of human nature. 
We do not gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles ; 
we do not expect the blind to see, the lame to walk erect, 
or the deaf to hear ; we do not feel at liberty to require 
of a man, whose intellect is obviously incompetent to the 
task of combining more than half a dozen propositions, 
the production of a Spirit of Laws, a Principia, or Me- 
canique Celeste; and it would be almost as unreasonable, 
however useful they may be in other situations more 
adapted to their peculiarities of mental organization, to 
expect from such persons a course of perseverance, forti- 
tude, and daring. If no one is answerable for a greater 
number of talents than are given him, and if, in the case 
of particular individuals, the Almighty Dispenser of men- 
tal gifts has seen fit to assign those talents to the Intellect 
rather than the Will, the requisition should be made, not 
only in conformity Avith the amount which has been 
given, but with reference also to the place of deposite. 
We may impose upon such persons a hea\^ burden of 
thought ; but must be less exorbitant in our requisitions 
on their resolves and action in those difficult and pressing 
emergencies, which obviously require the interposition of 
men of a different stamp. 

§ 224. Of comparative or relative weakness of the will. 

There is an apparent, and, to all practical purposes, an 
actual weakness of the will, which, when we fully consid- 
er its nature, may properly be termed comparative or rel- 
ative. We may explain it thus. The individual is not 



348 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

wanting in voluntary decision and energ}', if the Will be 
considered in itself and disconnected from other parts of 
the mental constitution. So far from this, it may perhaps 
be said Avith truth, that voluntary energy is naturally a 
leading trait and characteristic of the persons now referred 
to. And yet the Will does not fully perform the office 
of a controlling power ; it does not act up to the stand- 
ard of its own capabilities ; the individual is often va- 
cillating in his conduct, even in those cases where he acts 
with vigour ; so much so, that, even with great confi- 
dence in his good intentions, we do not place full reliance 
on his future conduct. And the cause is to be attributed 
not so much, as has been remarked, to any weakness in 
the will, in itself considered, as to the want of propor- 
tion between that and other parts of the mind. In other 
words, the passions have become predominant ; an in- 
flammatory violence has been infused into them by na- 
ture or by accidental circumstances ; and the Will, what- 
ever may have been its original vigour, has become sub- 
ordinate in its influence. — Have we not an illustration of 
these statements in the life of the Scottish poet Burns ? It 
is undeniable, that he naturally possessed more vigour of 
purpose, more energy of resolve, than many other per- 
sons; but such was the inordinate intensity of his passions, 
that the power of his Will was relatively weak ; it could 
not withstand and control those internal tempests to 
which he was subject. 

§ 225, Instances of want of energy of the vnll. 

Having made these general statements concerning 
weakness or inefficiency of the Will, (both that which is 
original or natural, and that which is relative and de- 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 349 

pends upon the inordinate strength of some parts of our 
sentient or emotive nature,) we now proceed to give some 
further instances of that want of .voluntary energy which 
has been spoken of. Do we not often discover a defect 
of this kind in men in pubhc hfe ? How many instances 
are recorded in history of men who have been thrown 
upon the stormy ocean of politics, fitted with every capa- 
bility for such a situation, with the exception of volunta- 
ry energy; but who, burdened with this single defect, 
have at last gone down and been overwhelmed in the 
billows ! Was not the pre-eminent mind of Cicero, ca- 
pable as it was of penetrating all the mazes of philoso- 
phy, and of embracing all the heights and depths of civil 
and public law, greatly Avanting in decision, in energy, 
in the firm and unshaken resolve 1 Although unspeak- 
ably in the advance in other respects, would it not in this 
particular suffer in comparison with the energetic purpose 
of Brutus and the Caesars ? — There is a name of no small 
note in English history, which is naturally brought to rec- 
ollection in connexion with these views, as an instance 
of versatility, founded not so much upon incapacity of 
the vmderstanding as upon imbecility and changeableness 
of the will. We refer to the Duke of Buckingham, who 
figured so conspicuously in the reign of Charles IL, and 
who, in the language of Dryden, 

" Was everything by starts, and nothing long ; 
But, in the course of one revolving moon, 
Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon." 

Some of the prominent leaders in the French Revolu- 
tion, that remarkable period of political tempest, showed 
themselves unequal to the occasion, and were overwhelm- 
ed in the convulsions which they contributed to arouse, 
but were unable to control. Were not the ministers 
Gg 



350 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

Necker and Roland, whose relations to that memorable 
event are too well known to require a recital, instances 
and proofs of this remark 1 Of Claviere also, one of 
the associates of Roland, it was remarked by Mirabeau, 
who w^as intimately acquainted with him, that " he was 
a man in head and a child in heart; that he always 
wanted a regulator ; and that, left to himself, he never 
ceased to vary." Of De Graves, the successor of Nar- 
bonne, and who was required, in consequence of his situ- 
ation and age, to furnish the list of the Roland ministry, 
it is said by a writer already repeatedly referred to, that 
" no man was less qualified to take a part in a stormy ad- 
ministration. He was an honest man, and his heart was 
good ; he was a stranger to all party feeling, but was 
weak both in body and mind ; he was not deficient in 
acquirements, and laboured hard ; but he wanted energy of 
character, and a Jirm vyill of his oum."* — The mere pos- 
session of intellectual powder is not enough to fit a person 
to take a leading part in the government of a nation ; 
but it is necessary that he should add to distinguished 
powers of perception and reasoning a corresponding en- 
ergy of the Will. How many, in consequence of not pos- 
sessing powers of the Will commensurate with those of 
the Understanding, have become giddy on the pinnacle 
of their elevation, and have arisen only to fall ! 

§ 226. Remarks on great strength of the ivill. 

But there are instances of a different kind from those 
which have just been mentioned ; instances, so far from 
weakness, that we clearly discover in them remarkable 
power of the will. It cannot be doubted, that, among 

* Dumont's Recollections of Mirabeau, chaps, xv., xix. 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 351 

the various elements which constitute whatever is great 
and admirable in man, we find one here, viz., in marked 
decision and vigour of the will. If, in some cases, the 
wdll seems hardly to have an existence, in others it ex- 
hibits a transcendent degree of energy. There have been 
men who, in danger and suffering, have shown a vigour 
that was calculated to excite the strongest emotions ; 
who have been inflexible, while others have been changed 
w^th every varying breeze ; and have possessed them- 
selves in stability and calmness, while many around them 
have been shaken in their resolutions and disquieted with 
fears. Of this marked decision and energy of the Will, 
we now proceed to give some illustrations. 

§ 227. Energy of the will as displayed under bodily 
suffering. 

When occupied with the general subject of the power 
of the will, we had occasion to make the remark, that the 
patience which was not unfrequently exhibited in cir- 
cumstances of bodily suffering, indicated the existence of 
such power in a greater or less degree. We might with 
propriety appeal to instances of the same kind, in order 
to show with what varieties of intensity the voluntary 
power is dispensed to different individuals. It is often 
said, however, when w^e refer to cases of this kind, that 
men will calmly endure almost anything when they can- 
not help it. But, in answer to this suggestion, it is enough 
to say, that there are cases where men suffer by their 
own act and their own choice ; and not merely in a slight 
manner, but in the highest degree. — Plutarch relates an 
incident in the life of the celebrated Marius, which will 
tend to show what we mean. This extraordinary man 



352 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

had both his legs covered with wens, and being troubled 
with the deformity, he determined to put himself into the 
hands of a surgeon. Confident in his own energy of 
mind, he would not be bound, but stretched out one of 
his- legs to the knife; and without a motion or groan, 
bore the inexpressible pain of the operation in silence 
and with a settled countenance. The story of Mutius 
Scaevola also shows us what astonishing powers of will 
our Maker has seen fit to dispense to some persons. 
When required by Porsena to explain certain intimations 
of danger which he had obscurely thrown out, and being 
threatened with extreme suffering in case of a refusal, he 
calmly thrust his right hand into a fire which had been 
kindled for the purpose of a sacrifice, and steadily held it 
there burning in the flames, for the sole purpose of giv- 
ing Porsena to understand that he was not a person to 
be influenced by fear or intimidated by suffering. — Is not 
this to be regarded as a decisive and remarkable instance 
of voluntary energy ; showing most clearly, that, while 
power is truly and emphatically appropriate to the Will, 
it does not exist in all persons in an equal degree, but is 
conferred more richly on some than on others ? 

There is a similar instance in the life of Archbishop 
Cranmer. In an unguarded and unhappy hour he had 
subscribed to doctrines which he did not believe ; an act 
which he afterward deeply repented of, as the greatest 
miscarriage of his life. And when he was subsequently 
led to the stake, he stretched out the hand which had 
been the instrument in this false and discreditable sub- 
scription, and, without betraying, either by his counte- 
nance or motions, the least sign of weakness or even of 
feeling, (such are the very words of the historian,) he 
held it in the flames till it was entirely consumed. 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 353 



§ 228. Energy of the loill as shown in imminent danger. 

Diversities in the strength and energy of the voluntary 
faculty are clearly seen in all cases of imminent danger, 
particularly danger of death. The fear of death is as 
natural to man as the love of life ; and but few men can 
be suddenly exposed to death, especially if it appear to 
be inevitable, without experiencing a shrinking back from 
it. We find some persons, however, who have such en- 
ergy of purpose, such remarkable decision and firmness, 
that they meet it, not merely as it comes in the milder 
arrangements of Providence, but in its most horrid and 
violent forms, with entire calmness, and even seek it as 
something desirable. The Roman Decii voluntarily de- 
voted themselves to death for their country. Regulus, 
when he had been made a prisoner by the Carthaginians, 
of his own accord took a course, safe and honourable, as 
he supposed, for Rome ; but which he clearly foresaw 
(and the result even more than realized his anticipations) 
would be attended with extreme cruelty and destruction 
to himself. In the dreadful wars of modern times, which 
have carried sorrow and desolation over Europe and 
America, how often have we heard of deeds and enter- 
prises of valour, which have excited our admiration in 
view of the wonderful energy of purpose they have dis- 
played, at the same time that we deeply lamented the 
occasions that called them forth. In the war of La 
Vendee, the celebrated Kleber called an officer to him 
for whom he had a particular esteem and friendship. 
"Take," said he to his military friend, "a company of 
grenadiers ; stop the enemy before that ravine ; you will 
be killed, but you will save your comrades." " I shall 
Gg2 ' 



354 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

do it, general," replied the officer, with as much calm- 
ness as if he had been required to perform a simple mili- 
tary evolution. He fulfilled his word and arrested the 
enemy's progress, but perished in the achievement. 

But it is not the soldier alone who has exhibited this 
energy of purpose amid the imminent danger of death. 
Not unfrequently have the philanthropist and the Chris- 
tian Missionary placed themselves in situations where 
extreme suffering, and even death itself, seemed to • be 
inevitable. They have not only had the resolution to 
leave their country and home, but to plunge into dun- 
geons, to walk on their errands of mercy amid pestilen- 
tial atmospheres, to wander through pathless forests, and 
over burning sands and precipitous mountains. In the 
boundless forests of North and South America; on the 
shores of the Nile and the Ganges, and on the banks of 
solitary streams unknown to civilized man; in frozen 
Greenland and the burning sands of Africa ; in the dis- 
tant islands of the sea, amid the wretched hamlets of the 
dreary Alps, wherever there is ignorance to be enlight- 
ened, or sorrow to be soothed, or souls to be saved, their 
labours of benevolence have been witnessed, and their 
naff.es will be held in lasting veneration. 

§ 229. Energy of the ivill as shoion in martyrdoms. 

Diversities in the power of the Will are quickly dis- 
covered, not only in the situations just referred to, of ex- 
posure to imminent danger, but in all extraordinary and 
trying situations whatever. Whenever we open a book 
of war, of famine, of pestilence, or of martyrdoms, and 
read in it the conduct of men under these terrible inflic- 
tions, we open and read a new and most interesting 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 355 

chapter in the philosophy of the human mind. It is im- 
possible for a person to read the history of Martyrdoms, 
in particular, without entertaining a deep regard and ad- 
miration for the sufferers, founded not merely upon con- 
siderations connected with the cause of their sufferings 
and death, but also upon the moral sublimity of their 
fixed and immutable resolve. It may indeed be said, 
and said with truth, that they were supported by religious 
faith and hope. We may rest assured, nevertheless, that 
the cases of marked and decisive triumph over bodily 
suffering were, for the most part, those of persons who 
possessed an original and innate energy of the Will. It 
is true that they were enabled to endure a great increase 
of suffering with the aids of religion ; but they were, for 
the most part, persons who could have firmly and tri- 
umphantly endured rnuch suffering without it. It was 
this combination of original energy of character with the 
blessed aids of religion, that supported Jerome of Prague, 
who sung hymns as he went to the place of execution, 
embraced the stake with cheerfulness, and, when the ex- 
ecutioner went behind him to set fire to the fagots, ex- 
claimed, " Come here and kindle it before my eyes ; for, 
had I been afraid of it, I had not come here, having had 
so many opportunities to escape." 

It was this combination of communicated faith and 
natural energy which has characterized other historical 
instances; one of which, although it may already be 
known to the reader, is too interesting to be passed by. 
— Maccail, one of the Covenant preachers, was subject- 
ed in the year 1666 to the torture, which, in reference to 
the process gone through, is called in Scotland the boots. 
The torturers place a kind of iron boot close on the leg 
»f he sufferer, and drive wedges between this and the 



356 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

leg. Maccail, guilty of the crime of preaching Christ, 
was compelled to undergo this dreadful form of suffer- 
ing ; but, supported by a strong faith and an indomitable 
'will, he remained true to his principles and his cause, 
although he expired under the process; a man who 
may be said to be triumphant in the moment of his de- 
struction. His last w^ords, uttered in the very moments 
of death, and with a distinct and impressive voice, are 
very remarkable ; perhaps, when we consider the pecu- 
liar circumstances of the case, a mind in glory and a 
body in ruins, they are as much so as any words in all 
history. "Farewell, sun, moon, and stars. Farewell, 
kindred and friends. Farewell, world and time. Fare- 
well, weak and frail body. Welcome, eternity. Wel- 
come, angels and saints. Welcome, the Saviour of the 
world. And welcome, God, the judge of all."* 

§ 230. Subject illustrated from, two classes of public 
speakers. 

In this connexion we are naturally led to make the re- 
mark, that there are not only some situations, but some 
arts and callings in life, in which a high degree of decis- 
ion and energy of the will is absolutely necessary to suc- 
cess. Among other arts, (we do not propose to mention 
all of them where this trait seems to be especially requi- 
site,) a high degree of voluntary energy is exceedingly 
important to that of the orator. And we are here fur- 
nished with grounds of distinction and comparison be- 
tween men of eloquence. There are some public speak- 
ers who greatly fail in efficiency of the Will. Possessed 
of intellectual powers that command the admiration of 

* Bishop Burnet's History of his own Time, Reign of Charles II. 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 357 

all, they are still acknowledged to have a weak point 
here. When they arise to speak in public, they have a 
clear perception of the subject of debate; and if there 
are any exciting elements in it, their passions are enkin- 
dled, and the texture of their argument is rendered heat- 
ed and radiant with the flame. The strong workings of 
the sensibilities are seen in the agitated nerves, the vio- 
lent gesticulation, and the contortions of the muscles. 
And we might expect great results, were it not that the 
presiding power of the will, upon which, under such cir- 
cumstances, everything depends, is not equal to the oc- 
casion. The voluntary power staggers upon its throne. 
They lose the control of themselves ; so that the mind, 
freighted as it is with thought and argument, is violently 
driven about, like a ship caught in a whirlwind. 

But there are other public speakers, who combine a 
high degree of intellectual ability with a no less signal 
energy of the Will. On the occasions of public debate, 
how^ever momentous, they arise with perfect calmness. 
The class of persons whom we now have in view are not 
without passion. On the contrary, the passions exist in 
a decided degree, and are capable of being arouse'd and 
of being impregnated with tremendous energy. But un- 
der no circumstances do they permit the passions to be so 
aroused as to reject and annul the supervision and control 
of the higher power of the will. They at times permit 
them to operate, so far as may be necessary to infuse vi- 
tality and vigour into the intellect ; but always hold them, 
even in their highest exercises, amenable to the effective 
superintendence of volition. Accordingly, when they 
consider it as suiting their purpose, they let them loose, 
and at once their voice and all the other methods of 
oratorical communication become the indices and exposi- 



358 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

tors of the tempest that is raging within. If it suits their 
purpose hetter, they suddenly call to their aid the su- 
premacy of the voluntary power ; all outward agitation 
ceases ; a calm succeeds to the tempest ; there is nothing 
perceptible but quiet dignity and unruffled self-possession; 
the passions, rebuked and quelled by a higher authority,- 
retire into the secret recesses of the soul : 

"Imperio premit, ac vinclis et carcere fraenat." 

§ 231. Power of the will requisite in the military and 
other arts. 

There are other situations and callings in life, in which 
power of the will is an essential requisite to success. This 
is particularly true of the military life, although it is pain- 
ful even to speak of such an art or calling among men. 
There never was a great commander who had not great 
energy of volition. It is not to be supposed, because a 
man stands unmoved and calm in the day of battle, even 
in its most terrible onsets, that he is naturally destitute 
either of fear or of the love of life. If this is sometimes 
the case, it is certainly not always so. And Avhere such 
is undoubtedly the fact, it is not to be regarded as evi- 
dence of greatness, but rather of obtuseness and hebetude 
of character. That sort of courage which consists in mere 
dulness and immobility of feeling, may answer well 
enough for a common soldier; but the trait of a gTcat 
commander, in addition to great intellectual power, is 
energy of the Will, or what we more commonly express 
by the term self-command. He keeps not only his fears, 
but his hopes also, in subjection ; and the imperturbable 
calmness he discovers is not to be regarded as a proof of 
the absence of fear, or hope, or joy, or sorrow, or anger, 



DIFFERENCES OF VOLU?^TARY POWER. 359 

but merely as an indication that he keeps those emotions 
and passions under complete control. 

Similar remarks will apply to those who are exposed 
to the dangers and perplexities of a seafaring life ; par- 
ticularly such as are sent out on voyages of exploration 
and discovery. If a high degree of energy of the Will 
is essential to the character of men who are required to 
fill leading military stations, it is not less essential to those 
who, like Columbus, and De Gama, and Cooke, and La 
Perouse, are destined to discover and explore new worlds. 
And hence, when persons are to be selected for such ex- 
peditions, the inquiry with their employers always is, not 
merely is he a man of intellect and of education, but is 
he a man of decision and firmness ? Can he stand unmo- 
ved and self-possessed in trying and unexpected situa- 
tions 1 Is he able, with entire and manifest coolness, to 
meet danger, and pain, and even death itself? 

§ 232. Energy of the will requisite in the men of revo- 
lutions. 

A higher degree of voluntary power than is allotted to 
the great mass of mankind, seems to be requisite in those 
who are destined to take a leading part in those great 
moral, religious, and political revolutions which have 
from time to time agitated the face of the world. It is 
no easy task to change the opinions of men, to check and 
subdue vices which have become prevalent, or to give a 
new aspect and impulse to religion and liberty. The 
men who take a lead in these movements are, in general, 
men of decision and firmness ; no others would answer 
the purpose. If the gentle spirit of Melancthon had been 
placed in the precise position occupied by Luther, would 



360 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER. 

the great event of the Protestant Reformation have beet, 
urged forward with the same impetus and to the sam" 
issues ? — When society becomes greatly unsettled, eithe 
in its religious or political aspects ; when there is a heav- 
ing and tossing to and fro ; a removal of the old land- 
marks, and a breaking up of the old foundations, then it 
is that men, not merely of intellect, but of decision and 
energy, (sagacious, cool, decided, persevering, resolute,) 
find their way upward to the summit of the conflicting 
elements, and subject them to their guidance. Such is the 
natural course of things; such men are needed, and no 
others are capable of taking their place ; and they be- 
come, almost of necessity, the advisers and leaders in the 
nascent order of society. The prominent leaders, there- 
fore, in every great religious or political revolution, will 
be found to illustrate the fact, that there are original and 
marked differences in the degree of power whichris ap- 
propriate to the will. Look at the men who presided at 
the events of the great English Revolution of 1640, par- 
ticularly the Puritans ; men of the stamp of the Vanes, 
Hampdens, and Fleetvs^oods ; who, in embarking in the 
convulsions of that stormy period, had a twofold object in 
view, the security of political liberty and the attainment 
of religious freedom ! Were they weak men ? Were they 
men wanting in fortitude? Were they uncertain and 
flexible, vacillating and double-minded 1 History gives 
an emphatic answer to these questions. It informs us 
that they entered into the contest for the great objects 
just now referred to, with a resolution which nothing 
could shake, wath an immutability of purpose resembling 
the decrees of unalterable destiny. They struck for lib- 
erty and religion, and they struck not thrice merely, but 
as the prophet of old would have had them; smiting 



EIFFEKENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER, 361 

■many times, and smiting fiercely, till Syria was consumed. 
They broke in pieces the throne of England ; they tram- 
pled under foot her ancient and haughty aristocracy ; they 
erected the standard of religious liberty, which has waved 
ever since, and has scattered its healing light over distant 
lands; and by their wisdom and energy they not only 
overthrew the enemies of freedom at home, but made the 
name of their country honoured and terrible throughout 
the earth. They seem to have entirely subjected their 
passions to their purposes, and to have pressed all the 
exciting and inflammable elements of their nature into 
the service of their fixed and immutable wills. In the 
prosecution of their memorable achievements, 

" Of which all Europe talk'd from side to side," 

they acted under the twofold pressure of motives drawn 
from heaven and earth ; they felt as if they were con- 
tending for principles which were valuable to all man- 
kind, and as if all mankind were witnesses of the con- 
test ; at the same time that they beheld on every side, in 
the quickened eye of their faith, the attendant angels 
eagerly bending over them, who were soon to transfer to 
the imperishable records on high the story of their victo- 
ry and reward, or of their defeat and degradation. All 
these things imparted additional fixedness and intensity 
to their purposes. " Death had lost its terrors, and pleas- 
ure its charms. They had their smiles and their tears, 
their raptures and their sorrows, but not for the things 
of this world. Enthusiasm had made them Stoics, had 
cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and preju- 
dice, and raised them above the influence of danger and 
corruption. It sometimes might lead them to pursue un- 
\^ase ends, but never to choose unwise means. They 
Hh 



362 DIFFERENCES OF VOLUNTARY POWER, 

went through the world like Sir Artegale's man Talus 
with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, 
mingling with human beings, but having neither part nor 
lot in human infirmities ; insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, 
and to pain ; not to be pierced by any weapon, not to be 
withstood by any barrier."* 

§ 233. Practical application of these views. 

The statements and reasonings of this and the prece- 
ding chapters in this Part of the Treatise, seem to us satis- 
factorily to show, that power, in the strict and real sense 
of the term, is an attribute of the mind as a whole ; that it 
is truly an attribute of the Will also ; and that, as an at- 
tribute of the Will, it exists in different degrees in different 
individuals. And it is proper to add here, that these 
views admit of a practical application, from which no 
person whatever ought to consider himself exempt. We 
are too apt to estimate and limit the degree of our ac- 
countability by the amount of our intellectual powers. 
But it cannot be doubted, that this is a ground of esti- 
mate too restricted. We are to inquire also, whether our 
Maker has not seen fit to give us a large share of natural 
fortitude and decision ? Whether he has not endued us 
with powers of the Will, which, under a suitable direction, 
might be available for our own good and that of others 1 
And if we find it to be so, we may be assured that 
somewhere within the sphere of om' location and action 
in life, there are duties which require this precise kind of 
talents, for the performance of which they were undoubt- 
edly given. Let us, then, study ourselves, and learn 
what our adorable Maker would have us to do. 

* Edinburgh Review, August, 1825, Art. Milton. 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 363 



CHAPTER V. 

CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 

§ 234. Connexion of the philosophy of the will with con~ 
sistency of character. 

The philosophical analysis of the Will, which we have 
now in a great degree completed, may contribute to va- 
rious practical results, some of them of no small value. 
Among other things, we may confidently assert, that we 
find in the nature and operations of the Will the basis 
of CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER, which is Certainly one of 
the most interesting as well as important traits. There is 
a well-written and popular Essay of Mr. Foster upon 
Decision of Character ; a subject, although it is intimate- 
ly connected with the doctrine of the will, on which we 
do not propose to touch except incidentally. We refer to 
that Essay, which exhausts in a great degree the subject 
of Decision of Character, merely for the purpose of say- 
ing, if indeed it can be necessary to suggest a caution of 
that kind, that it is important not to confound consisten- 
cy with mere decision ; for, although they approximate 
and resemble in some respects, they are obviously re- 
mote from each other and different in other respects. 
Decision is more limited ; consistency embraces a \\dder 
range of operations. Decision relates to one thing, or, at 
least, may be shown clearly and distinctly in one thing ; 
consistency relates to many. The appropriate sphere of 
decision of character is found in some perplexing but 



364 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 

definite emergency, and, of course, it generally manifests 
itself in the performance of particular acts. Consistency, 
on the contrary, can never be shown from the course 
taken in a particular emergency, without taking into con- 
sideration the conduct of the person in other situations ; 
but developes and proves itself from the tenour of his 
conduct in a long series of events. Decision implies a 
condensed and inspirited energy put forth in the crisis of 
a day or an hour ; consistency implies a condensation, 
and, if we may be allowed the expression, a tension of 
purpose, kept firm and immoveable for years, and even a 
whole life. 

There are some men who may not altogether be want- 
ing in decision, but who exhibit a species of mental rest- 
lessness, an uncertainty of regard and affection, an ine- 
quality of temper, and an inconstancy of conduct, which 
seems to be inconsistent with the just claims of a percip- 
ient and moral nature. If we do not err in our estimate 
of. the capabilities of human nature, it is in the power of 
all, who are in the full possession of their faculties, to 
check this inordinate restlessness, to regulate in a great 
degree this inequality, to establish and to render certain 
this inconstancy and uncertainty ; and it is certainly un- 
necessary to urge the importance of doing it. The man 
of naturally small intellect renders himself ridiculous, as 
well as unhappy, by capriciousness and inconstancy ; by 
such a course he hides or destroys the single talent that is 
given him ; while the man who possesses originality and 
vigour of intellect, and who might make them of great 
account for the good of his fellow-men, loses for the 
same reason the confidence which would be otherwise 
reposed in him, and becomes comparatively useless. 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 365 



§ 235. Illustrations of the inconsistent character. 

We shall perhaps obtain a more full and precise idea 
of consistency of character, if we look at the person who 
is without it. The inconsistent man projects a plan of 
operations to-day ; to-morrow he makes preparations to 
carry it into effect ; and the next day he abandons it. He 
proclaims his friendship for this or that individual ; eulo- 
gizes their merits, without much discrimination, on every 
opportunity suitable or unsuitable ; but suddenly he be- 
comes suspicious, recalls his eulogiums, and ends in hatred. 
He adopts the principles of some literary, political, or re- 
ligious sect ; defends them with great zeal for a short 
time ; and then rejects them with contempt. And it is 
impossible, from any assertions he may make or any 
course he may pursue at the present moment, to divine 
what doctrines he will maintain or what course he will 
take hereafter. In the language of Bruyere, " a man un- 
equal in his temper is several men in one ; he multiplies 
himself as often as he changes his taste and manners ; he 
is not this minute what he was the last, and will not be 
the next what he is now ; he is his own successor ; ask 
not of what complexion he is, but what are his complex- 
ions ; nor of what humour, but how many sorts of hu- 
mours has he. Are you not deceived 1 Is it Eutichra- 
tes whom you meet 1 How cold he is to-day ! Yester- 
day he sought you, and caressed you, and made his friends 
jealous of you. Does he remember you ? Tell him your 
name." 

Hh2 



366 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 



§ 236. Illustrations of the consistent character. 

The consistent man is directly the reverse. He may 
be less prompt and rapid in his movements, but he ordi- 
narily exhibits more discretion. And when he has once 
come to a conclusion as to what course is best to be pur- 
sued, he goes forward to the accomplishment of his ob- 
ject with perseverance and success. He may be some- 
what cautious in forming friendships; but he is equal- 
ly so in breaking them up and terminating them. He 
endeavours to perform what he considers to be his duty 
after a full examination of a subject, and is not discour- 
aged, and angry, and turbulent, if he happens to meet 
with disappointments. He looks calmly on the changes 
of life, neither much elated by prosperity, nor depressed 
by adversity. He does not make his principles bend to 
his circumstances ; but conscientiously and firmly main- 
tains them under all changes of fortune. If he is poor 
in outward wealth, he is rich in inward consolation ; if 
he is sometimes filled with sorrow, he is not harassed with 
the tenfold wretchedness of remorse ; and if he is desti- 
tute and unhonoured, he is never contemptible. — Such is 
the consistent man when guided by the sentiments of vir- 
tue. Such, among other illustrious names abounding both 
in profane and sacred history, was Socrates. It was his 
consistency of character which shed such a lustre over 
the name and life of that wisest of the sons of Athens. 

Other men may have possessed equal talents and have 
been equally conspicuous ; but they had not the same 
consistency ; a consistency the more remarkable, as it was 
sustained not only against outward pressures, but against 
no small share of inward evils. It is this trait in particular 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 367 

which has rendered the ethical teacher of the ancients so 
pre-eminently entitled to the rank which he holds. In 
almost every possible situation that could test his prin- 
ciples or try his patience, he was unaltered. He retained 
the same high principles of virtue, the same meekness, 
and kindness, and cheerfulness, the same unfeigned dis- 
position to promote the good of his country and of all 
mankind, amid great poverty, amid ingratitude, and re- 
buke, and calumny, in prison, and in death itself Had 
he decidedly failed in a single position, had he subjected 
his principles to some temporary convenience even for 
one short hour, it would have tarnished forever the glo- 
ry of his good name. 

§ 237. Of individiials remarkable for consistency of char-- 
ader. 

And if we come down to our own times and our own 
country, is it not the same ? What is it that imparts its 
deathless splendour to the name of Washington 1 It is 
the same consistency of character. In that well-balan- 
ced and noble mind, each desire and passion was com- 
pelled to keep its place. He never allowed them to 
usurp an undue dominion, and to drag his Will hither and 
thither against the dictates of his Conscience. He had 
but one rule of conduct, that of an enlightened moral 
sense. Hence his life was not, at different periods, at va- 
riance vnth, and dissevered from, itself; but was one 
throughout, constituting from beginning to end, (at least 
as compared with that of the great mass of mankind,) a 
resplendent and unchangeable unity of excellence. 

We have often thought that the life of Lafayette, the 
friend and associate of Washington, was an interesting 



368 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER, 

illustration of this subject. Having seen in his youth the 
miseries of a government which is not based on just funda- 
mental laws, he naturally felt a sympathy for those, wher- 
ever they might be, who were struggling for liberty. It 
was not, however, the licentiousness of a mob which had 
any charms for him ; but freedom controlled by law, the 
union of liberty and order. The promotion of these was 
always the great object of his life, steadily and openly pur- 
sued in almost every possible variety of trying situation. 
At one time the idol of the populace, at another doomed 
by them to the scaffold ; at one time the prominent and 
leading man of his nation^ and soon after a detested fugi- 
tive and exile ; to-day the admired inmate of palaces, to- 
morrow the resident of a dungeon ; in poverty and in 
wealth, in joy and in sorrow, in honour and in degrada- 
tion, under the old monarchy, the republic, the empire, and 
the constitutional monarchy, in the Old World and the 
New, in the field of battle and amid the debates of the 
senate, when everything around him had changed and 
everything in his own personal situation, he still steadily 
and cheerfully pursued the same noble object, uniting 
with delightfiil harmony the end with the beginning, and 
identified, more than anything else, by the unchangea- 
ble roENTITY OF His PRINCIPLES. 



§ 238. Of the value of consistency in the religious char- 
acter. 

If consistency gives nearly its whole beauty to the char- 
acter of men in the political sphere and also in the ordi- 
nary transactions of life, it is certainly not less fitted to 
adorn and to honour in the discharge of the various du- 
ties of religion. Probably no directions in the Holy 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 369 

Scriptures (not always given in express terms, but often 
indirectly and by implication) are more frequent than 
those which require us to possess and exhibit consistency 
of religious character. This requivsition is implied more 
or less in all those passages which exhort us to labour 
and not to faint, to bear with patience, not to be soon 
shaken in mind, and to persevere unto the end. When 
we lack wisdom, we are directed by an Apostle to " ask 
in faith, nothing wavering ; for he that tuavereth is like a 
wave of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed. For 
let not that man think that he shall receive anything of 
the Lord. ^ double-minded -man is unstable in all his 
waysJ' Again and again, Christians are commanded to 
watch, to stand fast, to continue grounded and settled in 
the faith, not to be moved away from the hope of the 
Gospel, and to hold fast their profession without wavering. 
It is melancholy to see how much the conduct of those 
who would not be thought to be wanting in true Christian 
feeling, varies with circumstances. The performance of 
the most plain and obvious duty (for instance, that of 
prayer) is unwisely and wickedly made to depend upon a 
thousand contingencies, as some transient doubt or fear, to 
which all men are subject, some trifling worldly disap- 
pointment, some slight affection of the nervous system, a 
keen and uncomfortable atmosphere, the vdnd blowing in 
a particular direction, a bright and beaming sun, or a sky 
overcast with clouds. Many religious persons decline 
doing what it is ob^dously their duty to do, because, as 
they allege, they are not in the right fram.e ; in other 
words, because their hearts are not sufficiently quickened 
and enlivened; not considering that the laws of God 
and the requisitions of duty are as much binding upon 
the will and the moral powers, as upon the desires and 



370 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 

the passions. When the desires and the passions are 
asleep, or are tending the wrong way, we may still find 
within us abundant elements of action in the will and the 
conscience. And just so long as the voluntary power or 
faculty of the will remains to us, and the moral nature, by 
pointing out a certain course to be pursued, furnishes a 
basis or occasion for the action of the will, no excuse of 
dulness and worldliness of the affections can possibly 
avail. Men may always be morally bound to do up to 
the limit of what they can do ; and if their feelings (we 
speak not of the moral feelings, but merely of the de- 
sires and affections in themselves considered) do not come 
up to the standard of their actions, that may be their sin, 
as undoubtedly it is, but not their excuse. Not that we 
mean to approve, by any means, a cold and heartless per- 
formance of religious duties ; but merely to assert, that 
there are elements in our nature which are sufficient to 
keep the conduct steady, and which ought to keep it 
steady, to the pursuit of the great objects of a religious 
life, amid the fluctuations of feeling to which men are so 
exposed. A depressed and suffering condition of the 
physical system may for a time infuse a gloom and 
darkness into our religious affections ; but so long as our 
perceptions of truth remain clear, and our moral sensibil- 
ities are awake, and the faculty of the will is continued 
to us, we remain under an obligation, as binding and as 
urgent as ever, to hold on our way, to trust in God, to 
press forward towards the mark, to fulfil faithfully every 
obvious duty, " cast down but not destroyed, faint yet 
pursuing." 



.•♦ 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 371 



§ 239. Of the foundation or basis of consistency and in- 
consistency of character. 

The statements of this chapter thus far go to show 
what consistency of character is, of what importance it is, 
and what beauty and interest it throws over the whole 
Hfe. Now if consistency of character is at once so full of 
beauty and utility, while the opposite trait of character is 
in an equal degree remote from both, being as deformed 
in its aspect as it is detrimental in its results, it is impor- 
tant to inquire into the cause both of the one and the 
other. And we think it must be obvious, on a very limit- 
ed reflection, that they are both based upon one and the 
same mental power, viz., the Will. And it is in conse- 
quence of this that we introduce this subject in connexion 
with the examination of the v^dll. — -If the will be decisive 
and energetic, the conduct will be essentially consistent ; 
if the will be vacillating and weak, we may natm^ally ex- 
pect that the vacillation of the mind will infuse itself into 
the outward life, and stamp it with inconsistency. 

" "When I look at the mhid of Lord Bacon," says 
Cecil, "it seems vast, original, penetrating, analogical, 
beyond all competition. When I look at his character, it 
is wavering, shuffling, mean."* That the character, the 
outward life of Lord Bacon was essentially Avhat it is here 
represented to be, is true ; but the cause of this meanness, 
and wavering, and shuffling, is not to be sought for in his 
intellectual powers, for in that respect he was undoubt- 
edly vast and original, as Cecil represents him, and pen- 
etrating and analogical, beyond all competition. The se- 
cret is to be detected, not in the structure of his intellect 
* Remains of Rev. Richard Cecil. — Remarks on Authors. 



372 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTEE. 

or the mere percipient part of his nature, but in the nat- 
ural weakness of his will, as compared with the intensi- 
ty of his desires and passions. And so of other cases of 
marked inconsistency of life. There is probably not one, 
with the exception to be mentioned in the next section, 
which does not involve the fact of a constitutional or a 
relative weakness of the will. 

§ 240. Of inconsistency of belief in connexion with in' 
consistency of conduct and character. 

We are aware there is some ground for the remark 
here, that inconsistency of conduct is not to be ascribed 
wholly to a defect in the power or the regulation of the 
will ; but is owing, in part at least, to inconsistencies in 
the power of belief There are some men who are con- 
stantly undergoing changes in their speculative views; 
whose minds, in the strong language of Foster, " are a 
CAKAVANSERA of Opinions, entertained a while, and then 
sent on pilgrimage." These frequent changes will of 
course be attended with correspondent changes and in- 
consistencies of conduct. So that undue versatility of 
conduct is not always to be ascribed to a defect in the 
regulation of the will ; but often to an inordinate facility 
and changeableness of belief. In connexion with this as- 
pect of human nature, which is undoubtedly one of no 
small interest, a few remarks are to be made. 

In the first place, we admit it to be true and undeniable, 
that there are some men who have this strange facility of 
belief, which in its results attaches them successively to 
opinions and systems diametrically opposite in their im- 
port. And, furthermore, we may well suppose that, in 
some of these cases, the cause of this peculiarity of mind 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTEK. 373 

IS a constitutional and natural one. They labour under 
the difficulty of a constitutional weakness or defect of 
mind in this particular. Without checking their belief 
by the suggestions of the most ordinary degree of caution, 
without taking any note of dates, characters, and circum- 
stances, they eagerly receive and digest the most glaring 
and ridiculous improbabilities. In respect to these per- 
sons, we may admit, that their inconsistency of conduct 
is not to be ultimately ascribed to a defect in the exerci- 
ses of the will. 

But, in the second place, w^e shall find in many, and 
perhaps a majority of cases of great vacillancy and 
changes in the belief, that the ground or cause of such 
multiplied changes is not a constitutional imbecility of the 
belief itself, but is to be sought for in the will, and in 
that very trait or characteristic of the wdll which is the 
basis of such inconsistencies in other respects. That is 
to say : the change in the position of the mind, which is 
imdergone, commences in the will, and the belief is af- 
terward brought to correspond to the new direction which 
has been taken by the voluntary power. A man, foi 
instance, who is wanting in firmness of purpose, is urgent- 
ly addressed by another person of a different party or 
creed. Placed in this situation, he feels the little volun- 
taiy strength which he possesses beginning to break up or 
give way ; and very soon, as if he were a helpless vic- 
tim wholly in the power of another, he is carried over to 
the new party or creed, and deserts both his old doc- 
trines and his old friends. He is not convinced nor satis- 
fied ; on the contrary, he feels himself greatly dishonour- 
ed ; but as he soon finds he cannot retreat, but must re- 
main in his new position, whether he is pleased with it 
or not, he sets about searching for arguments to justify 

I I 



374 CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 

him in the course he has taken. A thousand influences 
are now at work which were dormant before j his rep- 
utation, his interests, his pride, all throw their weight in 
favour of certain decisions of the understanding at vari- 
ance vnth. its former conclusions ; and by this rapid and 
powerful process, so evidently unfavourable to a true 
view of a subject, his intellect is soon brought up into a 
line with the new position of his wall ; and he stands jus- 
tified in his own estimation as a consistent person, though 
it may be in nobody's else. So that it still remains good, 
as a general statement, that the basis of consistency or 
the opposite is to be sought for in the character and dis- 
cipline of the will. ^ 

§ 241. Self-possession an element of consistency of char- 
acter. 

But it will be seen more distinctly and fully, that con- 
sistency of character has its basis chiefly in the condition 
and discipline of the will, when we consider some of 
those things which are more or less implied or embraced 
in such consistency. It is beyond all question, that one 
and a marked element in consistency of character is self- 
possession or self-government. A consistent person has, 
of course, some fixed principles by which his conduct is 
regulated, and some great objects before him (or, at least, 
what he considers such) towards which his efforts tend. 
His consistency is chiefly exhibited by his acting upon 
these principles and steadily pursuing these objects. But 
not unfrequently there are circumstances occurring which 
come unexpectedly, and which, coming in this unexpect- 
ed manner, greatly try the strength of his resolutions. If 
he has not an entire self-possession ; if he cannot wholly 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 375 

control himself in such seasons of sudden temptation and 
trial, he is, of course, liable to be driven off from the ground 
of his principles, as well as diverted from the great object 
of his pursuit, and thus to forfeit his character for consist- 
ency. It is highly important, therefore, if we would pos- 
sess the rich reward and the high honour of a consistent 
course through life, that the business, and events, and 
trials of our present state, instead of driving us hither and 
thither, and exercising an arbitrary sway over us, should 
be made subject to ourselves ; that om* own minds should 
have the mastery, the pre-eminence, the control over 
events. But this ability of remaining firm and self-pos- 
sessed in all such emergencies, implies more or less of 
power and discipline of the will. And if consistency of 
character is a truly valuable trait, wdiich gives beauty 
while it increases the worth of all other traits and attain- 
ments, we have a reason here, and a powerful one too, 
why we should endeavour to understand the nature of the 
will, and the means of strengthening and regulating it. 

§ 242. Consistency implies perseverance under changes 
of circumstances. 

As consistency of character involves the fact of a series 
of actions, extending over a greater or less length of time, 
there is necessarily implied, as another element in such a 
character, a disposition to persevere in the course which 
has been once adopted, under all those various changes 
of circumstances which are found always to attend the 
progress of human affairs. But there is a great differ- 
ence in this respect. When the truly consistent man has 
once placed before him some object as decidedly worthy 
of his pursuit, he presses towards it with an inflexible and 



376 CONSISTENCY OF CHAEACTER. 

ever-advancing step ; he is not frightened at every lion 
that stands or is supposed to stand in his path ; if diffi- 
culties suddenly come in his way, perhaps many in num- 
ber and risino- one above another in mao-nitude, his cour- 
age and resolution swell upward in proportion and pass 
easily over their summit. — But it is altogether different 
with the man who does not possess this character for 
consistency. He does indeed place before him some ob- 
ject to be obtained, and he enters upon the pursuit of a 
with ardour ; but from the beginning he pursues a zigzag 
and irregular course, alternately advancing and retreat- 
ing ; the obstacles he meets with, whether from within 
or from without, perplex his resolutions, and finally turn 
him wholly from his purpose. 

But what is necessary to that perseverance, without 
which there can be no consistency of character 1 Obvi- 
ously strength of will ; either a natural strength, or a 
vigour infused into it by a course of discipline. So that 
we see in tliis respect, as well as in others, how closely 
the important subject of consistency of character is con- 
nected with the doctrine of the will. 

§ 243. Consistency implies a control over the passions. 

Among other things which are implied in consistency 
of character, is a control of the passions. Although this 
ability may, vnth some reason, appear to be involved in 
self-possession or self-government, yet it is worthy of a 
distinct notice by itself. Frequent and violent ebullitions 
of passion will necessarily mar and desti'oy the order and 
harmony of one's life. It is obviously ordered in Provi- 
dence, that we are placed in a world w^here trials con- 
stantly beset us ; where griefs, and joys, and tears, and 



CONSISTENCY OF CHARACTER. 377 

smiles come mingled together, not merely to render us 
either sad or happy, but to try, to purify, and to disci- 
pline the soul. How beautiful, and even sublime, it is 
to bear in patience the evils which are our allotment ; 
while we learn in quietude and thankfulness the salutary 
lessons they impart ! It cannot be doubted, that a patient 
spirit, in the circumstances in which we are placed, is 
absolutely necessary to that propriety and evenness of 
deportment which is implied in consistency of character. 
No one can pursue the regular and even tenour of his way 
on a path so beset wuth inequalities as that of human life, 
who is not able to guide and to subdue the storms, wheth- 
er of anger or impatience, which at times arise in every 
one's bosom. When, in the Providence of God, we are 
made the subjects of various sorrows, it is our duty to 
bear them without murmuring. When we are injured by 
our enemies and are angry with them, it is still our duty 
to forgive and to bless them. But how can we possibly 
do this 1 In what way can we quell our impatience and 
subdue our anger, if there be not, distinct from the pas- 
sions and altogether above them, another and authorita- 
tive power, to which they can be compelled to render 
obedience 7 

It may perhaps be said, in all these cases, that we are 
not obliged to throw ourselves on the voluntary power, 
because we have the power of the conscience, the ability 
implanted within us, to judge of the right and wrong. 
But it should be kept in mind, that the act of conscience 
is merely advisory or consultative ; that it merely pro- 
nounces a thing to be just or unjust, merely approves or 
disapproves ; and that, without some other power to carry 
its decisions to their appropriate results, it would be 
wholly without effect. The whole topic, therefore, of 
Ii2 



378 DISCIPLLNE OF THE WILL. 

consistency of character (one of the most practical and 
interesting that can be presented to our notice) is closely, 
and even inseparably, connected with the doctrine of the 
nature, powers, and laws of the Will. This, however, is 
only one instance of the applications of this great sub- 
ject ; which will be found to weave itself into every va- 
riety and aspect of the philosophy of human conduct. So 
that we may say, in a single word, that it is impossible 
for us to have a correct imderstanding of the elements, 
and operations, and diversities of human nature, in its 
various aspects, both of feeling and action, vdthout an 
acquaintance, and a thorough acquaintance too, with the 
natm-e of the voluntary power.* 



CHAPTER VI. 

DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

§ 244. Importance of a due discipline of the voluntary 
power. 

In all the various treatises having relation to men- 
tal discipline, that have from time to time issued from the 
press, while much has been said of the discipline of the 
memory, the reasoning power, the imagination, &c., but 
little has been said of the discipline of the affections, and 
still less of that of the Will. It seems even to have been 
imagined, that the voluntary power, in consequence 
perhaps of its acknowledged pre-eminence and control 
over the other powers, is placed in a sphere so entirely 
distinct and remote as not to be approached in the way 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 379 

of discipline. And when we consider what ignorance 
and misconception of this part of our nature has prevail- 
ed, it is not surprising, on the whole, that such a notion, 
erroneous and prejudicial as it is, should have obtained 
currency. But if the views hitherto given in the various 
parts of this treatise be correct, Ave shall see that the dis- 
cipline of the will is not an unmeaning proposition, and 
that it is as important as it is practicable. Of the impor- 
tance of this discipline it will not be necessary to say 
much, after what has just been remarked on the subject 
of CONSISTENCY of character. If a man would sustain 
himself with any sort of credit amid the storms which 
blow from every point of the compass ; if he would covet 
the reputation of possessing any fixedness of belief or of 
acting on any fixedness of plan, it is certain that he must 
have within himself a regulative power. And this regu- 
lative power, in order to meet and sustain the requisitions 
that are made upon it, must be strengthened in every pos- 
sible way. 

In these views of the importance of the discipline and 
culture of the Will, we are happy to find ourselves sus- 
tained by the authority of an eminent writer, whose opin- 
ions w^ould be entitled to great weight on a matter far 
less obvious. — " The faculty of the Will requires not only 
to be directed aright in infant life, but to be fortified and 
strengthened by a course of exercise and discipline, as 
much as any facult}^ whatever. This we may say as 
physiologists ; but as moralists we may speak a bolder 
language, and maintain, that it demands the spur and 
trammels of education even more than all the other fac- 
ulties put together, since it is designed by nature to be the 
governing poAver, and to exercise an absolute SAvay over 



380 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

the rest, even over the desire itself, by which, however, it 
is moved on all ordinary occasions."* 



§ 245. A due balance of all the -powers the inost favour- 
able state of things to the just exercise of the vnll. 

In this connexion, and as preparatory to what we have 
further to say in this chapter, we are led to make the re- 
mark, that the most favourable occasion for the action of 
any mental power is to be found in the exact adjustment 
and harmony of the mental powers generally. When 
they are all in their natural place, when they are all 
properly and precisely adjusted in reference to each other, 
without any of that interference and jarring which always 
result from a transgression of their natural limits, they may 
all be expected to act vigorously, because there is nothing 
in the way of their thus acting ; all obstructions, at least 
all extrinsic obstructions, are removed ; and we may rea- 
sonably anticipate, that whatever ability they possess will 
be put forth to the full extent of its existence, and in the 
most available and best manner. And, accordingly, we 
may lay it down as a general principle, that wherever 
there is perfect harmony in the mind, everything will be 
right in its action ; every exercise of the mind will be in 
accordance with the truth of things ; that is to say, it will 
be just such as it ought to be. 

But every careful observer of human nature -(saying 
nothing of the obvious testimony of the Bible) assuredly 
knows that this is a state of things which, as a general 
statement at least, does not exist among men. The per- 
fect harmony of mental operation which exists in the Di- 
vine Mind, and which is beautifully reflected from the 
* Good's Medicine, Neurotica, Ord. I., Gen. vi. 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 381 

minds of all perfectly holy beings, is not found in man ; 
certainly not in the natural or unholy man. The parts of 
the human mind, however wonderfully they may have 
been arranged in the first instance, and whatever realiza- 
tions of harmony they are capable of attaining to in the 
future, exhibit at the present time but too mournful evi- 
dence of a dislocated and jarring movement. We do not 
undertake to explain or to intimate in w^hat way it has 
happened ; but of the general fact there cannot be the 
least doubt, that the soul of man, from his childhood up- 
ward, so far from always disclosing an exact and harmo- 
nious action as it should do, is in its own self a scene of 
fierce and unremitting conflict ; the flesh striving against 
the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh ; the appetites 
and passions attempting to enforce their claims against 
the requisitions and authority of conscience ; the love of 
the world, in its various forms of enticement and attrac- 
tion, earnestly and fiercely contesting against the love of 
God and of heavenly things. And now it should be kept 
in mind, that all this terrible contest bears directly upon 
the Will ; and it is too often the case, that this higher and 
controlling power, this great arbiter of the internal con- 
flict, gives its decision in favour of the appetites and 
against the moral sentiments, in favour of the world and 
against Him who made the world and all things therein. 
But this is a state of things which ought not to be. And 
it is truly a great practical question, in what way the ener- 
gies of the will can be strengthened, and directed to their 
appropriate and rightful issues. It is admitted that we 
know the right. And the question is, How shall we obtain 
strength to do it ? How shall w^e redeem ourselves from 
our voluntary thraldom, and walk forth in the light of our 
own conscience and in the smiles of an approving God, 



382 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

regenerated and free ? The answer to these questions 
might be expanded over volumes, but such an extended 
examination is not a part of our plan, and we shall dis- 
miss the subject, practical and interesting as it is, with 
some general views given in as few words as possible. 

§ 246. Of the culture of the. appetites, propensities, and 
passions, as auxiliary to the discipline of the will. 

Keeping in view the general statement, that an entire 
harmony of the mental powers is a condition of things the 
most favourable for the perfect exercise of the Will, we are 
the more fully prepared to enter into the examination of 
particulars. We proceed, therefore, to remark, that it is 
highly important, in the discipline of the will, to keep the 
appetites, propensities, and passions in due subjection. 
While it is true that the volitions are capable of opera- 
ting upon these various desires, and that they can check 
and subdue them, both by a direct and indirect action, 
and particularly by a combination of both ; it is likewise 
not the less true, that these appetitive and affective parts of 
our nature, if we may be allowed such expressions, are 
also capable in their turn of operating on the volitions, and 
that they do thus operate ; although it is not necessary at 
the present time to enter into any explanation of the pre- 
cise nature of this reciprocal influence. In other words, 
there is in the economy of the mind a fixed relation be- 
tween the two ; between the voluntary powder or will on 
the one hand, and the appetites and affections or passions 
on the other. Each of them has its place ; each in a 
perfect state of the mind has its appropriate limits ', each 
has its nature, its object, and its relations. Hence, in or- 
der to illustrate the alleged importance of keeping the de- 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 383 

sires, in their various forms, under suitable control, as a 
prerequisite to the proper exercise of the will, it seems to 
be necessary to present but one view. It is a fact, sus- 
ceptible of as clear demonstration as subjects of this na- 
ture generally admit of, that any appetite or propensity 
whatever, whether it be the desire of mere sensual pleas- 
ures, or of knowledge, wealth, or power, which is indulged 
for a long time without any restraint, (and the same may 
be said of any one of the passions or affections,) ultimate- 
ly acquires the ascendency, and entirely prostrates, not 
only the Will, but the whole mind, at its feet. If, there- 
fore, we duly estimate the great object of securing to the 
will a free, unperplexed, and vigorous action, we shall 
seriously endeavour, by the use of all those means which 
have a relation to a result so desirable, to restrain every 
appetite, propensity, and passion within its due bounds. 
Whenever they exhibit a disposition to pass the limits 
which a duly sensitive conscience has prescribed to them, 
let them be subjected to a rigid supervision and repres- 
sion. If we permit them to take even one step beyond 
the sphere which nature has assigned them, we give them 
a sort of claim on another step and another ; and, what 
is worse, we give them renewed power to enforce it. It 
is in their very nature, when they have once transgress- 
ed, to insist on repeated and continued transgression ; 
and it is impossible effectually to evade their clamorous 
and unjust demands, but by expelling them at once from 
their position, and bringing them back to the place where 
they belong. 

It remains only to be added, that in the culture of the 
various forms of desire is to be included, not only the re- 
pression of those which are evil ; but the bringing out 
and strengthening of those which are good The amia- 



384 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 



ble and honourable propensities and passions, togethe- 
with those of a purely religious kind, are enritled to i 
position in our sentient constitution of the first and high' 
est rank ; but how frequently does it happen that thej 
are expelled from their appropriate place, and are com- 
pressed into some obscure nook, by the spreading and 
strengthening of those of a different character. But it is 
certainly incmnbent on every one, who is desirous of se- 
curing the great object of freeness, vigour, and rectitude 
in the mental operations, to make them the subject of 
special and long-continued attention, to allure them forth 
into the light, and in every suitable way to accelerate 
their expansion and enhance their beauty. 

§ 247. Some instances and proofs of the foregoing state- 
ments. 

The subject of the inconsistency of the perfect exercise 
of the Will, with an undue and unnatural predominance 
of the appetites and passions, has been particularly intro- 
duced to the reader's notice in the chapter on the Slavery 
of the Will. In that chapter various illustrations and facts 
were brought forward ; and, of course, it is not so neces- 
sary at the present time to enter into further illustrations 
and proofs at much length. A few additional remarks 
will suffice. 

Every one must have observed how destructive to ever}"- 
o-ood resolve and noble effort is the inordinate indulgence 
of the bodily appetites. Wlien they obtain the ascend- 
ency, as they not unfrequently do, they make *the unhap- 
py subject of them an entire slave ; obscuring his intel- 
lect, blunting his conscience, perplexing and overthrow- 
ing all his serious and wise determinations, and debasing 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 385 

him to a level but little short of that of the brutes. The 
unhappy results of such indulgences are so frequently wit" 
nessed, that we feel at liberty to pass them by with this 
mere reference. — But the evil does not rest with the un- 
due indulgence of the appetites alone. Those active 
principles, which, under the name of the propensities and 
passions, rank decidedly higher in the scale of our sen- 
tient nature, are hardly less hurtful, when indulged to ex- 
cess, than excessive bodily appetites. This remark may 
perhaps be illustrated by a brief reference to the opera- 
tions of a passion, which is obviously implanted for wise 
and beneficial purposes, and whose pei^versions are both 
less numerous and less injurious than those of some others ; 
we refer to the passion of Fear. If all the various facts 
which go to make up the history of this passion could be 
presented before the reader, he would at once see what 
an immense obstacle an undue intensity of the passions 
presents to the unencumbered and vigorous exercise of 
the Will, when such exercise is put forth or is proposed to 
be put forth in any direction at variance with the precise 
line of the passion itself. If it be otherwise, how can it 
have happened that many persons of clear perception, 
and of undoubted powers of intellect in every respect, 
have nevertheless been the complete slaves of the irresist- 
ible sway of the passion now referred to ! 

There is one individual, whose mournful history is so 
familiar that a mere suggestion of it Avill answer our pur- 
pose ; we refer to the English poet Cowper. The pas- 
sion of fear in this amiable and interesting writer (oper- 
ating undoubtedly on a constitution easily excited and 
nervous) was so undue in its influence, that the will was 
often entirely overcome and prostrated ; and. he was 
often unable to perform what other persons, infinitely his 
Kk 



386 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

inferiors in the length and breadth of intellectual per- 
ception, would have conceived a very easy thing to be 
done. While in some respects (all those which go to 
constitute a man of literature and a poet) but very few 
men could justly claim a superiority over him, he sunk in 
others to the grade of infantile weakness ; and so con- 
scious was he of this, that his vivid imagination repre- 
sented him as the subject of ridicule and sport among 
those he met with in the streets. 

We recollect to have seen it represented in a German 
writer of deserved celebrity, that the key to the character 
of the Apostle Peter, whose active and benevolent life 
was often strangely anomalous and inconsistent with it- 
self, is to be found in the undue operation of the passion 
of fear. And there seems to be much truth in the re- 
mark. If one will carefully recall the incidents in the 
life of that devout and faithful follower of our Saviour, 
he will readily recognise how applicable the remark is. 
When the disciple, with an undue confidence which is 
not unfrequently found associated with an undue suscep- 
tibility to fear, assured the Saviour he would, not forsake 
him though all others should, he undoubtedly uttered 
what he felt, and what he felt too, when he made the as- 
severation, most deeply and sincerely. But when the Sa- 
viour's prospects were clouded, when the hour of the 
prince and of the powers of darkness came, when the 
shepherd was smitten and the smiters seemed to have all 
might in their hands, then it was that those intense mis- 
givings and fears, to which this devoted follower of 
Christ had probably been always subject, came rushing in, 
billow upon billow, till they overwhelmed all the land- 
marks of love and of duty, and bore him away captive 
into the camp of the enemy. 



UiSCIPLINE 01' THK WILL. 387 

We repeat it, therefore, that we should carefully study 
the nature of the appetites, propensities, and passions ; 
we must make them the objects of a patient and assid- 
uous cultm-e ; we must in particular subject them to a 
strict supervision and control ; otherwise, in some unex- 
pected hour, they will arise in their might, and, in defi- 
ance of the clamours of conscience and the struggles of 
the voluntary power, will bring the whole man under 
their dominion. — True as it undoubtedly is, that the will 
has a real and substantive power in itself, it is still true 
that this power has its limits, and cannot withstand every- 
thing ; it is still true that every inordinate exercise of the 
appetites and passions trenches upon the sphere of the 
voluntary faculty, and diminishes something from the 
freeness and vigour of its action. 

§ 248. Importance of repressing the outward signs of tha 
passions. 

But is it a fact, that the propensities and passions are 
actually under our control in any degree 1 It cannot be 
doubted. Instances have already been given which show 
it. There is a very striking remark of Mr. Locke on this 
subject, in his interesting chapter on Power. " Let not 
any one say he cannot govern his passions, nor hinder 
them from breaking out and carrying him into action; 
for what he can do before a prince or a great nuin, he 
can do alone^ or in the presence of God, if he will J''' — 
But, granting the general fact, the inquiry still remains, 
What course shall be taken, what particular method 
shall be adopted, in order to control them and keep them 
in their place ? Our limits will not permit us to under- 
take an answer to this question at length j and we shall 



388 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

accordingly leave the whole subject to the reflections 
and good judgment of the reader, with a few remarks 
upon a single topic, w^hich is the more interesting as it 
has seldom attracted notice ; certainly not that degree of 
notice to which it is justly entitled. — There is a tendency 
in every emotion and passion to express itself outwardly 
by means of natural signs, such as the motions of the eye, 
the changes of colour in the countenance, the movements 
of the muscles, and the tones of the voice. As the ten- 
dency is a natural one, it may be difficult to control it 
entirely ; but it is highly important to attempt to do so. 
And the reason is, (and a singular fact it is in the econ- 
omy of the mind,) that the outward expression reacts 
upon the inward principle, and gives increased intensity 
to the internal feeling. " As every emotion of the mind," 
says Mr. Stewart, " produces a sensible effect on the 
bodily appearance, so, upon the other hand, when we 
assume any strongly expressive look, and accompany it 
with appropriate gestures, some degree of the correspond- 
ent emotion is apt to arise within us. Mr. Burke informs 
us, that he has often been conscious of the passion of an- 
ger rising in his breast, in consequence of counterfeiting 
its external signs; and I have little doubt, that, with 
most individuals, the result of a similar experiment will 
be the same. Campanella, too, the celebrated philoso- 
pher and physiognomist, (as Mr. Burke further observes,) 
when he wished to form a judgment of what was pass- 
ing in the mind of another, is said to have mimicked, as 
accurately as possible, his appearance at the moment, and 
then to have directed his attention to the state of his own 
feelings."* 

* Stf?wart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Miud, voL iii., 
ch. ii., § ii. 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 389 

Furthermore, as the tendency of the emotions and pas- 
sions is to express themselves outwardly, every suppres- 
sion of the outward signs operates as a direct rebuke and 
curtailment of the passions themselves. The passions, 
when they are excited, are of such a violent nature, that 
they require an open field, a free, unencumbered circuit ; 
and they cannot well exist in their higher degrees of in- 
tensity without this opportunity of expansion and of un- 
encumbered action. Shut them up, therefore, in the 
bosom ', enclose them amid the dim shades and the walls 
of the penetralia of the soul ; and they will necessarily 
wither and die. When they are thus enclosed, they will 
not be more likely to live and flourish than the tree will 
that is shut out from the light of the sun and from the 
genial airs of heaven. 

This is a principle of great practical consequence in 
the government of the passions, and, of course, in the dis- 
cipline of the will. Never give to the passions (of com'se, 
it will be understood that we have no reference to the 
mild and benevolent passions, but to the evil, and malig- 
nant, and angry passions) an outward expression, either 
verbal or physiognomical, with the exception of those 
cases where the actual state of things does imdoubtedly 
require it. We may suppose a case, where we may not 
only be angry with a person, but where also it is desira- 
ble that he should know it ; but in a vast majority of 
cases, it is exceedingly better that they should be known 
only to the bosom where they originate. In one of the 
well-known Resolutions of President Edwards, which are 
worthy of the attention of the mere philosopher as well 
as of the Christian, after resolving against uneasiness and 
fretflilness in a certain case, he resolves fmiher, never to 
suffer the effects of such uneasiness or fretfulness, "so 
Kk2 



390 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

much as in the least alteration of speech, or motion of 
my eye." A strong intimation, to say the least, how un- 
becoming he considered the outward expression of the 
unamiable passions, and how injurious, in ordinary cases, 
he deemed such an expression to the subject of them. 

§ 249. Of enlightening the intellect in connexion with 
the discipline of the will. 

But in order to give the will a suitable opportunity of 
action by removing the obstructions in its way, and espe- 
cially in order to furnish an adequate and ample basis for 
its operations, we must go further back than the Sensi- 
bilities, which are in immediate proximity with it, and 
consider it in its connexion with the Intellect. This is a 
prominent and leading view of the whole subject of the 
discipline of the will. It cannot be doubted that, among 
the most available and decisive methods of aiding and 
regulating the action of the will, we must include the il- 
lumination of the intellect. As a general thing, the vol- 
untary power will act the more decisively in reference to 
any given object, in proportion as such object is the more 
fully understood. We do not mean to say that the per- 
ceptions of the intellect alone, and without anything fur- 
ther, will furnish a basis for the action of the will. The 
Intellect and the Will are entirely separated from each 
other, as we have already seen in the First Part of this 
work. But the intellect reaches and operates, and, we 
may say, powerfully operates, upon the will through the 
medium of the sensibilities. For instance, we are requi- 
red to pursue a certain course, but it certainly cannot be 
expected that we should have any feeling in the case, or 
that we should put forth any action in respect to it, until 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 391 

we understand what it is. Why is it that men are so in- 
active, so supine on subjects of the greatest moment to 
the welfare of the whole human race ? It is, because, 
wholly taken up with their own private affairs, they do 
not give then attention to them ; they do not investigate 
and understand them ; of course, they do not feel, and, 
being destitute of feeling, they do not act. Hundreds of 
millions of the human race are living and dying without 
any of those aids and consolations which a knowledge of 
the religion of Jesus Christ is calculated to impart. And 
yet it is universally admitted, both in consideration of the 
reasonableness of the thing and of the commands of Scrip- 
ture, that it is a duty incumbent on Christian nations to 
see that blessed Gospel sent to them without delay. But 
why is it that so few feel in heart what they acknowledge 
speculatively, and that almost none are found to offer 
themselves as personal labourers in this great and glori- 
ous work ? It is because (at least this is one great and 
prominent reason, if it be not the only one) their inquiries 
have been too limited ; they have not explored the length 
and breadth of that unspeakable wretchedness incidental 
to a state of heathenism ; they have been satisfied with 
generalities and abstract truisms, without carefully and 
seriously estimating, even in a single instance, the extent 
of that degradation implied in bowing down to images 
of Avood and stone ; without sitting down and counting, 
one by one, the tears, and the groans, and the wailings, 
the crime and the hopelessness of the present life, and the 
weight of misery in the life to come. 

We would illustrate the prominent idea of this section 
by another topic. One of the greatest evils which has 
ever afflicted the human race is that of war. But still 
only a very few individuals appear to be fully awake to 



392 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

its dreadful atrocity, and are seriously, and with an ear- 
nestness proportioned to the importance of these move- 
ments, arraying their efforts and their influence against 
its continuance. The great mass of mankind are indif- 
ferent and inert. And how can we accoimt for it ? In 
the same way we account for their indifference to the 
spread of the Gospel. It is owing (we do not say whol- 
ly, but in a great degree certainly) to inattention to the 
subject, and consequent ignorance of it. They dwell upon 
a few general and often erroneous conceptions of skill 
and heroism, as they are detailed in the pages of a gov- 
ernment Gazette, but they do not bring distinctly and fix- 
edly before their eyes the bui-nings, and the devastations, 
and the famine which overspread the country ; they do 
not behold the wounds, and the protracted suffering, and 
the horrid forms of the battle-field ; they do not listen to 
the mourning and the lamentation of the bereaved father 
and mother, whose gray hairs go dow^n with sorrow to 
the grave. If they would but once consider the subject 
in all its facts and in all its bearings, they could not fail 
both to feel and to act; they would at once lift up a 
note of remonstrance, w^hich should reach their rulers, 
and compel them to stop in their ministrations of blood. 

§ 250. Further remarks on the same subject. 

A multitude of similar illustrations might be brought 
forward. In almost any case whatever, if we can induce 
a person to examine a subject with a ^Aew to action, the 
work is half done. And what is true of others is true 
of ourselves. If we propose to act, we must think seri- 
ously upon that, whatever it is, to which the proposed 
action relates. The proper, and, we may add, the indis- 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 393 

pensahle preliminary to action, is investigation. We are 
so constituted, that it is impossible for us to put forth a 
volition without a motive, without some antecedent feel- 
ing, without some appetite, some desire, some moral feel- 
ing already existing in the mind. But it is equally im- 
possible, as has already appeared in the chapter on the 
Relation of the Intellect to the Will, that the various 
emotions and desires should exist, without some specific 
object perceived by the understanding, to which such 
emotions and desires relate. It is a fundamental law of 
our natm-e, that there can be no action of the will with- 
out feeling ; and that there can be no feeling without in- 
tellection. There is, therefore, an indirect, but a very 
intimate and important connexion between the intellect 
and the will. If we would will, we must feel ; and if 
we would feel, we must understand. As a general thing, 
(it will be noticed that we do not lay down the proposi- 
tion as one admitting of no exception whatever,) the will 
corresponds to the intellect ; the action of the will is in a 
line with the action of the intellect ; and changes in the 
intellect will almost necessarily induce corresponding 
changes in the sentient and voluntary parts of the men- 
tal constitution. -And hence it happens, that what is de- 
sired at one time, will soon cease to be desired when pre- 
sented to the mind in some new light. What is warmly 
approved at one time, will suddenly become, on further 
examination and knowledge of all the circumstances, an 
object of disapprobation. And, on the other hand, ob- 
jects of disapprobation and aversion may soon become, 
on further inquiry, objects of approbation and desire. In 
this way, by exerting our powers of inquiry and reason- 
ing, and by presenting new facts to the mind, we are 
continually presenting new motives, and are indirectly, 



394 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

but very effectively, operating changes in the action of the 
voluntaiy faculty ; and (what is an important circum- 
stance in this connexion) these inquiries are made, and 
these changes are brought about, under the direction of 
the vi'ill itself. And thus, in the wonderful constitution 
of the human mind, there are wheels within wheels ; ef- 
fective springs of action operating upon each other ; mo- 
tives regulating the will, and the Avill taking a different 
direction and regulating the motives ; a reciprocal- action 
and influence of each part without detriment to its ap- 
propriate nature. 

§ 251. Of aiding the will by a reference to the regard of 
others. 

We may sometimes give strength to the action of the 
will, in those numerous cases where we find ourselves va- 
cillating, and uncertain w^hat to do, by various aids exter- 
nal to ourselves. As our Creator never designed that 
men should live isolated from each other and alone, so 
He has admirably fitted them up with those mental capaci- 
ties and tendencies which are precisely adapted to a 
state of society. While he has implanted within them a 
strong desire for each other's company, which brings 
them together in communities, he has, at the same time, so 
constituted them, that they naturally exercise a regard 
and esteem for whatever is kind, honourable, and upright. 
And it is altogether suitable and just, that they should 
avail themselves of this arrangement of things in what- 
ever way it can be made subordinate to the discharge of 
their personal duties, and to the general perfection of 
their character. In a single word, they are at liberty to 
sustain themselves in any proposed course of action, by 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL, ^95 

taking into view, and by receiving, as an encouragement 
to them, the favourable estimates of pubUc opinion. 

We would not, however, be understood to say, that a 
regard to the good opinion of others should be the sole 
and paramount rule of conduct; since our constitution 
developes a higher rule, that of the moral sense, to which 
every other one is not only subordinate, but responsible. 
Nevertheless, it is undoubtedly true, that a suitable regard, 
as has been remarked, may safely and justly be paid to 
the favourable opinions of our fellow-men. The regard 
and approbation which they not unfrequently bestow on 
those w^hose conduct they are called upon to witness, is 
one of those natural rewards which the Creator has ap- 
pointed as an attendant upon virtue. When, therefore^ 
we are strongly tempted, by the influence of prejudice, 
passion, or self-interest, to pursue an erroneous though 
pleasing and favourite course, it is important to aid the 
will by presenting before it, as a counteracting motive, 
the judgment of enlightened public sentiment ; remem- 
berino: that there is somethinof in the heart of man which 
is instinctively responsive to the just and true in hiunan 
conduct, not only to condemn or approve such conduct as 
right or wrong, but to despise or to honour it as enno- 
bling or as degrading. He whose fixed and immovea- 
ble volition is ahvays coincident with the requisitions of 
immutable rectitude, is cheered by the hearty and con- 
sentient voice of the wise and good. While he who 
yields himself to an evil course, or even weakly vacil- 
lates betw'een the right and the wrong, can expect no- 
thins: but their aversion and their frowns. 



396 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 



§ 252. Of aiding the will hy a reference to the conscience. 

But particularly in those conflicts of life where we find 
the will halting between two opinions, we should refer, 
as has already been intimated, to the consolations and 
guidance of that higher power within us, the Moral Sense. 
It is undoubtedly true, that we may derive strength from 
an enlightened public sentiment ; but it camiot be denied, 
that public opinion is always changeable and sometimes 
wrong. We may perhaps admit, that in a large major- 
ity of cases it is just in its decisions ; but still it is ob\a- 
ously so imperfect as a rule of action, that we greatly 
need some other ; not, perhaps, of a more amiable aspect, 
but certainly more lofty in its bearing and more inflexi- 
ble in its requisitions. He who constantly subjects him- 
self to the influence of the general rule, that conscience 
is never to be violated, who strictly observes it in small 
things as well as in great, is a tower of streno-th to him- 
self. Beginning to feel as if he were in some degree 
acting up to the dignity of his nature, he finds within 
himself a fountain of joy springing up Avith spontaneous 
and everlasting freshness. While he builds, as it were, 
a mighty wall around the will to prevent its erring into 
forbidden paths, he at the same time gives it direct and 
positive strength to pursue its onward and allotted course. 
In all cases whatever, however we may explain the fact, 
rectitude is strength. If it is true that knowledge is pow- 
er, it is still more so that moral uprightness is power. It 
will always be found, that he who faithfully walks w^ith- 
in the magical circle of virtue, experiences an invisible 
protection ; but when the limit is once passed over, he is 
left to himself, and rushes headlong. There is profound 



DISCIPLINE OF THE 397 

wisdom in the terse and emphatic expres&fOns of a Roman 
writer, "Ubi semel recto deerratum est, in pr^ceps 

PERVENITUR." 

§ 253. Of the aids furnished by the jjrinciple of imitation. 

We here take the Hberty of recalhng to the reader's 
notice a remark ah'eady made, to the effect that the pow- 
er of the will is a definite thing ; that, although it may 
not be precisely the same in every individual, it has nev- 
ertheless, in every case, its fixed limits of capability and 
action; and that we cannot reasonably expect from it 
what is obviously beyond its ability. And hence the 
propriety of always keeping in mind its true nature ; of 
carefully considering what it can do, and what it cannot 
do, in order to aid it in cases of doubt and trial in every 
possible way. 

Among other directions important to be kept in mind, 
we may make the further remark, that the operations of 
the will may be greatly aided by availing ourselves of 
the principle of Imitation. Of the nature of this princi- 
ple we propose to say nothing further than to remark, in 
a word, that it is an original one, and is very extensive 
and powerfiil in its influence ; perhaps there is none more 
so. Hence in common life, and particularly on extraor- 
dinary occasions, we find constant appeals to it. When 
soldiers are on the eve of a battle, the commander insti- 
gates them to the great and decisive effort, not only by 
the consideration of what is due to their country, but b} 
setting before them the example of othei's who fell in the 
renowned fields of war. In the numerous and sanguina- 
ry battles of Napoleon, he rarely permitted his soldiers to 
advance into the conflict without reminding them of the 
Ll 



398 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

great days and heroes of victoiy, and endeavouring to 
inflame their courage and to increase their energy by pro- 
posing for their imitation the soldiers of Lodi and Ma- 
rengo, of Jena and Austerhtz. 

It will be naturally understood, that we introduce this 
instance merely as an example of the power of the prin- 
ciple, and of the use which has been made of it. It would 
be much to be lamented if -there were no other examples 
than those of a military kind to sustain in trial, and to 
encourage to endurance and effort in trying emergencies. 
In the ordinary trials of life ; in those perplexities which 
assail us from every side ; in those afflictions, both bodily 
and mental, which poor and corrupted hmnanity is heir 
to, we often feel om- best resolutions breaking up and 
giving way, and we should wholly fall into despair, did 
we not draw encouragement and support from the faith 
and fortitude of those who have been in similar situations. 
Discouraged and famting, we rest our weary heads on the 
bosoms of those who have gone before us, and find our- 
selves refreshed. The Scriptures themselves fully recog- 
nise the propriety of this resource, and furnish us with 
some striking examples of an appeal to it. The author 
of the Epistle to the Hebrews, in particular, seems to have 
availed himself of this principle of om- natm-e. After 
mentioning Abel, and Enoch, and Abraham, and Moses, 
and a multitude of others, that great host of olden time, 
who subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, stopped 
the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, had 
trial of mockings, scourgings, and imprisonment, and of 
whom, in a word, the world was not worthy, he adds, as 
if he would instigate those whom he addressed to follow 
an example so glorious, " Wlaerefore, seeing we also are 
encompassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses, let 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 399 

US lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so 
easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race 
that is set before us." The sacred writers everywhere 
encourage and exhort us to follow in the path of our 
blessed Redeemer ; " who suffered for us, leaving us an 
example that we should follow his steps. ^^ And how 
many, in all ages of the world, have tm-ned their weep- 
ing eyes to the Captain of their salvation ; and beholding 
him firm and unmoved in temptation, constant and per- 
severing in his labom-s, patient in suffering, benevolent 
and forgiving to his enemies, having but the one great 
object of doing his Father's Avill, have been transformed 
into the likeness of his glorious image, and, like him, 
have been made perfect through tribulation ? 

§ 254. Of aiding the will hy placing ourselves in circum~ 
stances which do not adtnit of a retreat. 

We may sometimes aid the action of the will by pla- 
cing ourselves in a position from which there is no retreat. 
We sometimes express it by saying, that we have taken, 
or are about to take, a decisive step ; meaning a step 
which is more or less an irretrievable one ; a step which 
folly and completely pledges us to a certain course. We 
may suppose, with some reason, that Julius Caesar, when 
he approached the banks of the Rubicon, felt some hesi- 
tation and vacillancy of purpose ; he scarcely knew him- 
self what he was going to do ; his will stood balancing 
on a pivot ; and it was uncertain in which direction it 
would throw itself; but when he had once passed the 
small stream that constituted the boundary of his prov- 
ince ; when, by a single movement onward, he had chan- 
ged his position in relation to the government of his 



400 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

country, then all was done ; there was no possibility of 
retreat; his purpose at once became fixed, irrevocable, 
unchangeable. 

In many cases in common life, when the will is vacil- 
lating between various objects, we may establish it firmly 
and for ever by a step onward, by placing om'selves in a 
new position, by appealing to a Higher Power for the 
uprightness of our intentions, and making an irretrievable 
movement. And we have here an effective principle of 
action ; one, upon the application of which the most im- 
portant issues have sometimes depended. The true com-se 
of action, in all cases where the path of duty is unques- 
tionably plain, and when, at the same time, the world and 
its allurements interpose to hinder us from entering into 
that path, is, not to sit down sluggishly and hold an in- 
glorious parley with the suggestions of indolence and 
vice, but to move forward, to commit ourselves at once, 
to take a decided step, to throw ourselves into the breach, 
and let the consequences take care of themselves. 

§ 255. Of the effects of habit in giving strength to the 
will. 

In illustrating that course which is to be taken in order 
to give strength to the will, it is proper and important to 
bring into account the great principle or law of habit. 
Of the nature and tendencies of this law, it is enough to 
say in this connexion, that no other law of our mental con- 
stitution is capable of so entirely modifying the mental 
action as this. We often see its results in the case of 
the vicious man, whose unholy propensities go on strength- 
ening and strengthening under its influence, till they as- 
sume the stubbornness and inflexibility of iron. But the 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 401 

principle in question is as powerful for good as for evil j 
and we do not fully understand the secret of our own 
strength till we have learned its power, and how to apply it. 
When we set out upon a course of virtue, our resolution 
may be feeble ; not unfrequently we shall find ourselves 
faltering in our purpose ; and it seems to be with great 
difficulty that the voluntary power is brought fully up 
into a line with that course which we deem it important 
to pursue. But it is the result of the principle of habit, 
that every act of the Will in this right direction gives vi- 
vacity and strength to the succeeding act. So that, if a 
man once enters upon a virtuous course, if he once sets 
his foot into the strait and narrow way, then every step 
which he takes will greatly increase the elasticity and 
the ease, the rapidity and firmness of his movement. 

§ 256. Of strengthening the will hy religious considera- 
tions. 

Finally, we may give great strength and energy to the 
action of the Will by means of religious considerations. 
Let it ever be our serious desire and determination, in the 
numerous perplexities and temptations of life, to look 
constantly to that beneficent Power who presides over the 
destiny of men and of worlds, and without whom (what- 
ever human pride may assert to the contrary) there is no 
race to the swift and no battle to the strong. Everything 
of a religious nature, the goodness of God, the astonish- 
ing condescension and love of the Saviour, the complete- 
ness and mercy of the great plan of salvation, the short- 
ness and rapidity of time, the solemnities of death, the 
dread realities and pomp of the judgment day, a bound- 
less eternity, the inconceivable joys of heaven, and the 



402 DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 

inconceivable wretchedness of a rejection from God's fa- 
vour ; all these things may operate upon the mind, either 
singly or with various forms and degrees of combination ; 
■and as they cluster around the great principles of action, 
they will be found infusing into them an element of vi- 
tality, and imparting a strength which can be derived 
from no other source. The world is full of instances. In 
all periods of the history of the human race, men have 
witnessed the power of religious considerations in im- 
parting patience, endurance, and vigour of purpose. 
They have seen it in the chamber of sickness, in the sol- 
itary dungeon, on the iron bed of torture, in the flaming 
furnace, in the voluntary exile among barbarous tribes, in 
hunger, and cold, and nakedness, in dens and caves of the 
earth, in desert islands and wildernesses. Other consid- 
erations may undoubtedly give strength, but those of reli- 
gion give more ; mere worldly motives may impart a 
considerable degree of vigour, but the ennobling incen- 
tives, drawn from the character and government of God^ 
inspire an energy far more intense, as well as more eleva- 
ted and pure. How many have been able to say with Pel- 
lico, in the miseries of his ten years' imprisonment, " reli- 
gion taught me to experience a sort of pleasure in my 
troubles, to resist and to vanquish in the battle appointed 
me by Heaven !" How many in a yet higher strain have 
been able to say with the three pious friends of the proph- 
et Daniel, " We are not careful to answer thee in this 
matter. If it be so, our God, whom we serve, is able to 
deliver us from the burning fiery furnace." How many 
in all ages of the world have been sustained by such im- 
speakable energy, extracted from the quickening elements 
of religion, that they could truly exclaim with the poor 
and suffering Waldenses, when encircled with fire and 



DISCIPLINE OF THE WILL. 403 

sword in their Alpine fastnesses, and hurled "mother 
with infant doion the rocks/' 

" Yet better were this mountain wilderness 
And this wiid life of danger and distress, 
Watchings by night and perilous flight by day, 
And meetings in the depths of earth to pray, 
Better, far better, than to lineel with them, 
And pay the impious rite thy laws condemn." 



THE END. 



NOTE 

ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL.* 



A DESIRE having been expressed that I should apply 
more distinctly the views of the foregoing Treatise to the 
question of the slavery of the Will, so far as such slave- 
ry may be supposed to connect itself w^ith man's devo- 
tional or religious nature, I have thought proper to add in 
a Note some brief statements, which may serve, if no- 
thing more, as the outlines of an analysis of that great 
subject. — I believe it is the doctrine of nearly all Theo- 
logical as well as of many Philosophical writers, that, 
in the things of religion, the human Will, in its own 
unaided action, is, in some important sense of the terms, 
enthralled or enslaved. I will subjoin the statements of 
a few of the leading theological creeds, as illustrative of 
what we mean by this general statement. 

Episcopalian. — " The condition of man after the fall 
of Adam is such, that he cannot turn and prepare him- 
self, by his own natural strength and good works, to 
faith, and calling upon God ; wherefore we have no 
power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to 
God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, 
that we may have a good will, and working with us 
when we have that good will." 

Presbyterian. — " Man, by his fall into a state of sin, 
uath wholly lost all ability of Will to any spiritual good 

* See Part iii., ^ 191, and the accompanying Note. 



406 NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

accompanying salvation, so as a natural man, being alto- 
gether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not 
able by his own strength to convert himself or to prepare 
himself thereunto." (The Congregational Creed, as laid 
down in the Savoy Confession, is the same on this sub- 
ject with the Presbyterian.) 

Methodist. — The doctrine of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church on this subject, as it was agreed upon and adopt- 
ed at the organization of the American branch of that 
Church in the Conference of 1784, appears to be the 
same, as we should naturally expect it would be from 
its original connexion with the Episcopal Church, with 
the Episcopalian doctrine as above given. It is there- 
fore unnecessary to repeat it. 

The fact of man's enthralment in the matters of reli- 
gion, so that he finds himself unable, by his own unaided 
efforts and acts of will, to fulfil the Divine requirements, 
we may properly leave to be settled by the professed and 
learned teachers of religion, to whom it must ever be an 
inquiry of the most serious import. We consider it 
quite important, on a number of accounts, that Mental 
Philosophy should not intrude unnecessarily upon the le- 
gitimate boundaries of Theology. Our object here is, 
supposing the fact in question to be ascertained or gener- 
ally admitted, to illustrate it (not to prove, but merely to 
illustrate it), so far as can be done in a few brief state- 
ments, in its philosophical relations. 

First. — The first thing to be noticed in the philosoph- 
ical illustration and analysis of this fact is, that the Will 
may be disturbed in its action, and enthralled or enslaved 
in respect to some things and not in respect to others. A 
man, for instance, who, in respect to the use of intoxica- 
ting drinks, is mentally enslaved, so much so that all his 



NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 407 

unaided powers of Will are not sufficient to sustain him 
against the influence of this temptation, may nevertheless 
be mentally free in other respects ; exhibiting in every- 
thing which does not come within the reach of his spe- 
cific mental malady, all the good judgment, the activity, 
and the energy which characterize other men. Accord- 
ingly, a Philosophy of the Will, which embraces and il- 
lustrates the general fact of the Will's Freedom, will 
nevertheless furnish a sufficient basis for particular and 
insulated cases of enthralment, such as that which is now 
under consideration. 

Second. — A second remark is, that a disordered or ab- 
normal state of the Will may exist in two forms, viz., 
Positive and Relative. The Will may be spoken of as 
POSITIVELY disordered when it is naturally, and by its very 
constitution, so imbecile and weak as to fail of that su- 
pervisory control and voluntary enforcement which are 
characteristic of its normal or sane state. It may be re- 
garded as RELATIVELY in a disordered or alienated condi- 
tion when it fails to perform the duties which pertain to 
it as a voluntary power, not so much on account of any 
positive defect inherent in itself, as in consequence of the 
inordinate and disordered action of the other parts of the 
mind. The power which is lodged in an individual 
Will is at any given moment a definite thing, and, ac- 
cordingly, is capable of enduring a certain amount of 
pressure, which may be brought to bear upon it from some 
other part of the mind ; but any increase beyond that 
amount deprives it at once of its position of pre-eminence 
and control, and drags it down prostrate and enslaved at 
the feet of some other stimulated and insanely energetic 
principle. 

Third. — We may infer, from what has been said, that 



408 NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

the theological doctrine of the slavery of the Will (we 
leave it to Theologians to ascertain the fact of such sla- 
very) does not necessarily involve any psychological dif- 
ficulty ; in other words, is not necessarily inconsistent 
with the doctrines of the Will, as commonly laid down 
by mental philosophers. And we may add also, as 
ao;reeino- best with all the facts in the case, that the sla- 

DO ' 

very of the Will, in the theological sense of the expres- 
sions, is rather relative than positive. This last remark 
will require some explanation. — It is at this point in the 
inquiiy that the doctrine of the slavery of the will con- 
nects itself with the doctrine of human depravity. In 
respect to the subject of Depravity, it is the doctrine of 
Edwards, in which it is well known he has the concur- 
rence of many distinguished writers of other Christian 
denominations, that human nature is originally depraved 
by the defect, privation, or absence of what is good, 
rather than by the positive implantation of what is evil. 
He maintains, that the natural principles w^hich are im- 
planted within us, such as the natural appetites, pro- 
pensities, and affections, are good in their place, and that 
the moral evil which is incident to our present state con- 
nects itself with what is taken away or lost. In connex- 
ion with this general view of the subject, we are natu- 
rally led to inquire specifically, what that principle is 
which is wanting in us. Evidently the principle of su- 
preme LOVE TO GOD ; by which is meant a love to God 
which is suited to the nature of the great Being towards 
whom it is directed, and which consequently holds a 
leading or paramount position, making every other prin- 
ciple and every other attachment entirely subordinate. 
Now if we suppose this great principle, in consequence 
of the Fall of Adam, or for any other cause, to be re- 



NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 409 

moved or to be inordinately weakened, it is the natural 
consequence that the lower principles of our nature, such 
as the appetites and the various propensities of which a 
particular account is given in systems of mental philos- 
ophy, immediately become excessive in their operation. 
This is particularly true of that original or implanted 
DESIRE OF HAPPINESS which is common to all mankind, and 
which is commonly denominated the principle of self- 
love. We may reasonably conjecture (at least the sup- 
position is not excluded by any psychological difficulty) 
that the very first throb of this principle, on the supposi- 
tion either of the absence or of the entire prostration of 
the higher principle of love to God, is inordinate and ex- 
cessive. In other words, it may be supposed to drop 
from the very beginning the mitigated and regular exer- 
cise to which we properly give the name of self-love, 
and to assume the irregular and inordinate exercise which 
is properly denominated selfishness, which, in distinction 
from the repressed and authorized exercise of the princi- 
ple, is always and entirely wrong. This unrestrained 
and evil exercise of mind becomes more and more unre- 
strained and evil, in accordance with a well-known law 
of the mind's action, by long-continued and frequent rep- 
etition. In a word, selfishness, under the influence and 
impulse of the law of habit, becomes ascendant ; it as- 
sumes the place of a predominant and controlling prin- 
ciple ; and, secure in its position and its power, exer- 
cises a tyrannical and almost unlimited control. Accord- 
ingly, when it is proposed to an irreligious individual, 
who is, of course, under the control of selfishness, to love 
God with all his heart and mind, and to love his neigh- 
bour as himself, he is found unable in his own strength to 
do it. And hence, in this particular, the Will is said to 



410 NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 

be enslaved. Not because, in itself considered, it is des- 
titute of power ; not because it is positively, and in its 
own nature, disordered ; but because the selfish tendency 
has become so operative, intense, and violent, that it no 
longer has power to subdue and regulate it. 

Fourth. — If man's Will be enslaved, so that he can- 
not of himself be and do what is required of him, what 
shall be said, on philosophical principles, of his account- 
ability 1 The theological doctrine in general terms is, 
that, whatever may be true of the slavery of the Will in 
the things of religion, man's accountability remains ; and 
that he is not only required to do what is right and to avoid 
what is wrong, but that he is justly condemned, in par- 
ticular, for not serving and loving God just as the Scrip- 
tures demand of him. This view is undoubtedly a cor- 
rect one ; and yet the human mind, in its search after 
justice as well as truth in this matter, will be desirous to 
find something explanatory of this seemingly inconsistent 
state of things, viz., slavery on the one hand, and moral 
accountability on the other. Different explanations are 
given by different theological writers. It will be said 
by some, for instance, that man, in virtue of his connex- 
ion with Adam as the natural and federal head of the 
race, and also by his own personal acts, has brought 
himself into his present ruined situation. He has de- 
stroyed himself; and, therefore, stands accountable both 
for his present ruined state, and also for everything which 
naturally flows out of that ruin. 

But it is believed that Theologians commonly meet 
the difficulty here, in addition, perhaps, to the view^ just 
referred to, by connecting with the doctrine of the reli- 
gious slavery of the Will the great conservative doctrine 
of the grace of God, purchased by the blood of Christ, 



NOTE ON THE SLAVERY OF THE WILL. 411 

and manifested in the shape of a general and adequate 
offer of Divine assistance to all who will sincerely do all 
they can for their religious restoration, whether it be more 
or less. It is this view which was referred to in the con- 
cluding paragraph of § 169. Prostrate and enthralled 
by sin as we are, we may still, by the grace of God, 
speak of our freedom and accountability in religious 
things as well as in others, and that, too, without any 
prejudice either to fact or to language ; but not in such a 
way as to appropriate to ourselves any merit. We find 
in Christ that purchased freedom which we had lost in 
Adam. And hence those frequent Scriptural appeals 
which are made to us, just as if we had not lost our 
strength. We cannot of ourselves break our chains ; but 
Theologians very properly assure us, that there is a sense 
in which we may take hold of the arm of Christ, which 
has power to break them for us. Hence, although in 
our natural and enthralled state (if we choose to call it 
such) we can undoubtedly make important efforts of a 
certain kind, and which have a connexion more or less 
intimate with our final destiny, we are nevertheless prop- 
erly said to be saved by the Divine power, and to have 
no merits of our own. The necessity of human effort, in 
whatever shape and to whatever extent it is put forth, 
and the accessory and consummating influence of divine 
grace, seem both to be referred to in that interesting and 
instructive passage : " Work out your own salvation 
with fear and trembling ; for it is God which worketh 
in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure." 



THE END. 



UPHAM'S MENTAL PHILOSOPHY, 

BMBRACLNQ 

"the intellect," "the sensibilities," and "the will," 
in three volumes. 

ALSO, AN ABRIDGMENT OF THE SAME IN ONE VOLUME. 

The undersigned respectfully request the attention of the public to the 
philosophical works which they now take the liberty to present to them. 
It is neither their interest nor their wish to express their sense ol the 
value of these works in any undue and exaggerated terms ; but they 
suppose that, as publishers, they may be permitted to commend them te 
the notice of the public, at least so far as they deserve it. It has been 
the object of the author of these volumes, by a long and careful induction 
of facts, to give a connected and full view of the mental operations. He 
has aimed at nothing less than the true philosophy of the human mind. 
Of the intrinsic difficulty of this undertaking, we suppose there can be 
but little or no difference of opinion. And as to the manner in which 
the author has acquitted himself in it, the subsequent testimonials, com- 
ing from men standing high in the public estimation, will enable the 
reader to judge. The demand for a system of mental philosophy is ur- 
gent. The teachers in our various seminaries all agree, that a system 
of education, without some knowledge of mental philosophy, cannot be 
considered complete. On the contrary, they seem to regard the knowl- 
edge of the human mind as in some respects more important than any 
other form of knowledge. And we have no doubt that they will cor- 
dially welcome any system which gives evidence in its preparation of 
learning, good judgment, and candour. 

Of the qualifications of Professor Upham for the great task (the results 
of which, in a stereotype, uniform, and cheap edition, we now present 
to the public), as well as of the works themselves, we might leave the 
subsequent testimonials to speak. They say all we could wish them to 
say ; and the reader can judge whether the writers of them, filling, as 
they da, very high and responsible stations, are worthy of credence. But 
we venture to intimate to the public, that the most satisfactory testimo- 
nial is to be found in the works themselves. It was our intention to 
point out some things by which these volumes are characterized, and by 
which they are favourably distinguished from other works ; but we con- 
clude, on the whole, to leave this to the examination of the reader. 
We think we run no hazard in saying, that those who will read and 
study them carefully, will see no reasonable and sufficient ground for 
dissenting from the favourable aspect in which they appear in the follow- 
ing statements. 

Harper & Brothers, 
[ t^ N ne-York, 1840. 82 cliff-street. 



UPHAM'S SERIES OF PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS 

FOR ACADEMIES AND COLLEGES. 



From Rev. Lkonard Woods, D.D., 
Professor of Theology in the The- 
ological Seminary at Andover. 
As I understand that you have it in 
contemplation to publish a new edition of 
the several works on Mental Philosophy 
by Professor Upham, I take the liberty 
to say, that /regard them as among the 
best and most popular works on the va- 
rious subjects which he has treated. He 
is a charming writer, and his views are 
well expressed and well guarded, and 
are adapted to be extensively useful at 
the present day. His Abridgment is 
very much liked by those teachers who 
have used it. Mr. Coleman, principal 
of the High School, or, as it is called, the 
Teachers' Semiriary, in this place, says, 
he finds it much more intelligible to 
young men, and much more com- 
plete, than any text-book he has used. 
And his judgment is worthy of confi- 
dence. The next edition is to receive still 
farther improvements. I hope you will 
be encouraged and sustained in this un- 
dertaking by a very extensive patron- 
age from an enlightened community. 
Yours respectfully, 
Leonard Woods. 
To the Messrs. Harper. 



From Rev. Moses Stuart, Profes- 
sor of Sacred Literature in the 
Theological Seminary at Andover. 

Andover, Dec. 4, 1839. 
I have read with much satisfaction 
Professor Upham's works on Intellect- 
ual Philosophy and on the Will. The 
tone and manner of these books must be 
pleasing to all who love calm, dispas- 
sionate, and accurate investigation, and 
moderation in defending one's own opin- 
ions and canvassing those of others. I 
have no hesitation in saying, that I re- 
gard Professor Upham's books as giv- 
ing the best views of the subjects named 
which we have in the English language, 
and as worthy of being read and studied 
in the schools and colleges of our country. 
Even those who may differ from him in 
opinion, will feelno disposition to indulge 
Wikind feelings towards so sincere and 



candid an inquinr after truth. Most 
sincerely do I wish ample success to the 
author and the publishers of the works 
in question; especially at a time when 
the public mind is allured by books on. 
these subjects in many respects dreamy 
and unintelligible to the great mass of 
readers. 

M. Stuart. 

From Rev. William Cogswell, 

D.D., Secretary of the American 

Education Society. 

I fully concur in the opinion of Pro- 
fessor Stuart, expressed in the prece- 
ding certificate, and could add more in 
favour of the works named were it ne- 
cessary. 

William Cogswell. 

Boston, Dec. 6, 1839. 



From Rev. S. Luckey, D.D., editor 
of the Christian Advocate and 
Journal, Quarterly Review, &c. 
To Messrs. Harper. 
Gentlemen, 
I am happy to learn that you are abotU 
to publish a stereotype edition of Pro- 
fessor Upham's works. To this gentle- 
man the literary public are much indebt- 
ed for his " Elements of Mental Phi- 
losophy," a work which was greatly 
needed as a text-book in our colleges and 
academies at the time it was first pub- 
lished. It is now used, I believe, in 
most of our literary institutions ; and 1 
hesitate not to say, it is better adapted 
to the wants of students, in the science 
of which it treats, than any other work 
extant. It cannot but be satisfactory to 
the friends of science, that the worthy 
author has prepared an edition of his ex- 
cellent work, with additions and improve- 
ments, to be issued in a more perma- 
nent form. Of his Treatise on the 
Will I cannot speak with the same con- 
fidence, not having read it ; although I 
have heard it well spoken of by compe- 
tent judges. 

S. Luckey. 

Methodist Book-Room, ) 

New- Fork, 20th Dec, 1839. J 



CPHAM S SERIES OF PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. 



Commendatory Letters — continued. 



From Rev. R. E. Pattison, D.D., 
President of Waterville College, 
Maine. 

/ have examined with care the work on 
Mental Philosophy, in two volumes, by 
Professor Upham, of Bowdoin College, 
and it is with pleasure that I express the 
opinion that the work will contribute 
much to the successful study of that 
difficult but eminently iiseful department 
of knowledge. It has the advantage 
over any other one work which has fall- 
en under my observation, that of having 
comprehended the subject. We have 
many prof ound treatises on separate por- 
tions of mental philosophy ; and those, 
it may be, the most important ; but I 
know of none which surveys the whole 
field but this. I ought to add also that 
its moral influence is exceedingly pure 
and healthful. 

R. E. Pattison. 



From the late Wilbur Fisk, D.D., 
President of the Wesleyan Univer- 
sity, Middletown, Conn. 
. . . Permit me to say, that I have read 
the Treatise [on the WilQ with a great 
deal of satisfaction. It is certainly a 
much better analysis of this difficult sub- 
ject, in my judgment, than anything I 
have before seen in relation to it. I might, 
if this were a proper time, it is true, 
make some queries on some of the points 
presented in the work ; but, on the whole, 
I cannot but believe it will go far towards 
harmonizing the hitherto discordant 
views connected with this subject. . . . 
W. FisK. 



From Rev. Henry Chase, Pastor 
of the Mariner's Church in the 
city of New^-York. 

Gentlemen, 
Though many able treatises on men- 
tal philosophy had been published from 
time to time, more or less adapted to ad- 
vance the science of which they treat, 
yet a work which would present in out- 
line and in sufficient detail a complete 
and systematic view of the powers and 
operations of the mind, had long been a 
desideratum. Such a work was greatly 
needed, as well for the private student 
and man of leisure as for our colleges 
and academies, and it has at length ap- 
peared in the ^'■Elements of Mental 
Philosophy," by Professor Upham. 
This treatise merits the high estimation 



in which it is held. The classification, 
of the mental states, both general and 
subordinate, and the arrangement of the 
several parts and subdivisions, are true 
to nature, and present a full view of the 
entire subject without confusion. The 
arguments and illustrations are forcible 
and pertinent, the style is perspicuous 
and pleasing, and the whole evinces ex- 
tensive research and patient imwstiga- 
tion. TVhoever attentively examines 
this work will find that it is character- 
ized by accurate observation, discrimi- 
nating analysis, logical deduction, and 
remarkable freedom from bias. The 
spirit of candour and the love of truth 
pervade it. It has passed through three 
editions, and the author is now revising 
it, together with his Treatise on the 
Will, and preparing the whole for a uni- 
form stereotype edition. Every friend 
of mental science must feel under great 
obligation to Professor Upham for his 
valuable work, and wish him success in 
its publication. 

I am, gentlemen, 
Yours with great respect, 
Henry Chase. 
New- York, Dec. 21, 1839. 



From Rev. N. Bangs, D.D. 

So far as I have examined the work, 
I fully concur in the above recommenda- 
tion, and therefore wish the author and 
publishers success in issuing this new 
edition. 

N. Bangs. 

From Rev. Wm. C. Larrabee, A.M., 
Principal of the Wesleyan Semi- 
nary at Readfield, Maine. 

. . . I am highly gratified to learn that 
you are about to publish Professor Up- 
ham' s series of works on Mental Philos- 
ophy. I have used the former editions 
of his Mental Philosophy for some time 
past in this seminary, and am prepared, 
from intimate and familiar acquaintance 
with the work, acquired in the recitation- 
room as well as in my study, to speak 
of it in the highest terms. There is 
no work extant in that department so 
well adapted to the purposes of a text- 
book for schools and colleges. The 
work needs only to be better known to 
teachers to have its merits properly ap- 
preciated. 

Yofurs respectfully, 

W. C. Larrabee. 



DPHAM S SERIES OF PHILOSOPHICAL T^ORKS 






^^ 



Commendatory Letters 

From Samuel Adams, A.M., Profes- 
sor of Chymistry, &c., in Illinois 
College. 111. 

Messrs. Harper tf Brothers, 
I am happy to learn that you contem- 
plate pvrblishiiig a stereotype edition of 
Professor Upham's works on Mental 
Philosophy. Prom considerable famil- 
iarity UHth them, I am of the opinion 
that they contain the fullest and clearest 
view of the whole science of the mind of 
any work novb extant. 

Yours, JfC, 

S. Adams. 



-continued. (, it'i^'ir 



From Rev. D. W. Clark, A.M., 
Principal of the Amenia Semina- 
ry, N. Y. 
. . . Some of the excellences of Mr. 

Upham's Work are ; 

1. The general classification is clear, 
natural, and comprehensive. The sub- 
ordinate divisions are also natural and 
explicit, so that the mind passes, by a 
kind of natural succession, from one 
topic to another. JVor is the essential 
unity of the mind ever lost sight of. 

2. The positions are clearly stated, 
and, for the most part, as clearly proi>ed. 
The general course of the reasoning is 
instructive, and the illustrations are ex- 
ceedingly appropriate and interesting. 

3. Truth has evidently been the ob- 
ject of the author's search. What is 
real and substantial in philosophy is 
fully discussed ; while but little time is 
wasted upon speculations already ex- 
ploded. Many are apt to forget that 
exploded opinions belong to the history 
rather than the elements of a science. 

4. The work is eminently practical 
and religion,'!. But while a deep, un- 
varied reverence to the great Architect, 
whose consummate skill is strikingly 
m.anifested in every part of our mental 
economy, runs through the whole, there 
is nothing bigoted or sectarian about it. 

5. The author is exceedingly pleasing 
in his style, and this adds not a little to 
the interest the student will feel in the 
perusal of the work. But perhaps, 
while he has avoided that dry style of 
composition which renders so many of 
our works on science dull and uninter- 
esting, he may he liable to the objection 
of being too diffuse for a work whose 
main design is to impart the prhiciples 
of scientific truth. 

I have spoken of its merits as a text- 
book adapted to schools and colleges ; 
but it will be found equally beneficial in 



every department of life. Especially 
would I recommend it to those whose vo- 
cation calls them to officiate in closest and 
most elevated relations to the mind. 1 
mean the Christian minister. A bove all 
others, such should have clear, correct, and 
comprehensive views of the mind, whose 
derangement they would repair, whose 
woes they would heal, and whose bliss 
they would consummate. The remarks 
on moral education are of a deeply in- 
teresting character, and should befamil 
iar to every one who is in any way con- 
nected with the education of youth. 
Yours, <fc., 

D. W. Clark, A.M. 
Amenia Seminary, ) 
Dec. 24, 1839. } 



From theinstructersin the Academ) 
and the Teachers' Seminary, Gor- 
ham, Maine. 

Messrs. Harper <^ Brothers, 
The undersigned, having learned yoia 
intejition of publishing a uniform edition 
of Professor Upham's works on Mentai 
Philosophy, cheerfully express their cor- 
dial approbation of the undertaking, ana 
give their testimony in favour of tht 
intrinsic merits of those works. Thi 
three volumes embracing the Intellect 
Sen,vibitities, and Will, contain a full 
and, on the whole, a very satisfactorr 
view of the mind. Each volume is c. 
distinct treatise by itself, and can bf 
read separately with profit ; while, at tht 
same time, all three of the volumes arc 
essential to a complete view of the subject. 
The whole work has for some time beet: 
studied in the seminary with which wt 
are connected, by large classes, embra 
cing both sexes. The results of thii 
experience are such as lead to the ear 
nest desire that it may be extensively cir 
culated, as one of the best aids to thi 
student, whether in our literary institu 
lions or in the solitary efforts of self 
culture. 

Amos Brown, 
Principal and Teacher in Mental ant. 
Moral Philosophy. 

Fkanklin Yeaton, 
Teacher of Languages. 
Thomas Tenney, 
Teacher of Chymistry, Physiology, <^-c 
BtNJAMlN WyMAN, 

Teacher of Music. 
Cyril Pearl, 
Lecturer on Education and the Art oj 
Teaching. 



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